


Until the Beginning

by MrsKeatingsFanfics



Series: The 'Until the Beginning' Trilogy [3]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, POV Second Person, Possession, Post-Canon, Spoilers - Undertale Pacifist Route, True Ending Spoilers, genocide run spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 20:44:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 327,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7376752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsKeatingsFanfics/pseuds/MrsKeatingsFanfics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The requirements are met. The prophecy is fulfilled. The monsters are free. The Underground is empty.</p>
<p>...Well. Almost empty.</p>
<p>And that's not the only thing haunting Frisk these days.</p>
<p>Strange occurrences. Hidden agendas. Festering secrets. Forgotten memories. After two years of peace on the surface, the young ambassador acclaimed for bringing about this peace is about to discover their work in the empty underground is far from complete.</p>
<p>The final installment of the series, 'Until the Beginning' continues exploring the themes of forgiveness and dealing with the aftermath of traumatic events found in 'Determined to the Better End' and 'Everything Left to Say'.</p>
<p>
  <i>"do you think even the worst person can change...? that everyone can be a good person, if they just try?"</i>
</p>
<p>Enjoy~</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. & Prologue

 

** Prologue **

Sans had grown to resent whenever he woke up to see snow outside the window.

 _here we go again,_ he would think as he forced himself out of bed. _how many times has it been now? hell if i know,_ he would think as he answered the loud, eager knocking at his door. _let's see what new kind of hell that kid'll dish out this time,_ he would think as he opened the door to his brother, hiding his inner turmoil behind a smile.

This didn't change in the slightest since getting to the surface. In fact, it could be judged that it got even worse.

He opened his sockets to the sight of a dark sky through frosty window panes partially hidden behind lavender curtains. Dread instantly washed over him. As did an eventual sense of bitter resign. _here we go again. how many times has it been now? hell if i know. let's see what new kind of hell that kid'll-_

A loud snore made his sockets widen. The thoughts had formed in his skull faster than the memories came rushing back. Frisk's note. Mt. Ebott. The demon. The truth. The truth. The truth...

 _oh yeah._ The dread within him dissolved like an anti-acid tablet in water. _‘that’ happened._

Memories of last night slowly returned to him. The hug fest that ensued after the industrial-sized bean spillage ended when it was suggested that the cake a certain robot made not go to waste. Despite its appearance bearing the expected amount of MTT-brand glamour, the pastry was actually quite delicious, even though Sans was sure there'd be glitter stuck between his teeth for at least the next three months. Then there was a pillow fight to end all pillow fights; it was a wonder most of Toriel's pillows survived. They'd be able to tell future generations war stories of the intense battle waged. And then, Frisk went out like a light. And then, and then...

Slowly, Sans took a better look at his surroundings. The view outside the frosty window panes indeed held a dark sky, but it wasn't the darkness of the underground. It was a grayish-dark that was slowly getting brighter; the prelude to the encroaching daybreak. Mettaton sat on the floor beside the window, having reverted back to his rectangular form before shutting down so his battery could properly charge as he slept. On the largest couch in Toriel's living room/den, Asgore laid on his back, more snores akin to the one that Sans heard earlier coming from him. Toriel also slept on a couch, though it wasn't quite as large as the one on which her ex snored away on. Smoldering embers remained within the fireplace in the living room/den everyone had hunkered down in, the scent of burning redwood still lingering in the air.

As for himself and everyone else, they had hunkered down on the giant mass of blankets and pillows they had formed in the middle of the floor. The first face he saw when he carefully turned onto his side was Papyrus'; with his jaw slack and his sockets closed and his limbs splayed out this way and that, there was no way he was waking up any time soon. A glance upwards provided Sans with an upside-down view of Undyne and Alphys' sleeping forms, still cuddling up to each other like there was no tomorrow. They really did make a cute couple.

Sans had grown to resent whenever he woke up to see snow outside the window.

He was staring to believe that outlook could change. Especially if it was accompanied by this calm, tranquil atmosphere.

A smile, unforced and natural, curved the skeleton's mouth. He stifled a yawn and adjusted his position with great caution; accidentally waking up any one of the sleeping bodies near him would reap disastrous consequences. There was still some time before morning, and any time not spent sleeping when one could sleep was time wasted in his book. He was already starting to nod off again, then the placement of his hand directly beside him made the skeleton realize that one of the persons of the sleeping pile was no longer a part of the pile.

He glanced down at the cushiony spot between himself and Papyrus, where Frisk had been curled up with their newly appointed big brothers, peacefully snoozing away. Sure enough, there was no human child there anymore. And they were no where else that Sans could see in the dim pre-morning light. Bathroom, perhaps?

A small tug on the end of his jacket sleeve proved otherwise.

He flinched at the suddenness. Turning his skull, his sockets peered through the darkness and saw that the previously absent human child was kneeling beside him, wide awake and staring at him eye to socket.

"mornin', kiddo," he whispered, reaching the arm Frisk was tugging at up to ruffle their bed-head hair. "did asgore wake you up, too? heh, and to think, toriel lived for years sleeping through that. that's downright awe-inspiring."

He chuckled lightly, but he laughed alone. Curiosity entered his expression, and intensified once he read the expression on Frisk's face.

"that's a pretty serious face you're wearin' there, frisk." He leaned in a little closer, trying to get a better read of it. "almost like something heavy's on your mind that you ain't sure whether it's worth mentioning or not."

The corner of their mouth twitched, telling Sans that he had hit the hammer on the head.

"Sans." Their tone was determined, but with the way they glanced down at the fingers they twiddled in their lap, it was obvious that they were nervous. "I... Can I ask you for a favor?"

 

** Chapter 1 **

_Few plants could grow without direct sunlight. Fewer flowering plants could thrive without the source of energy provided by the golden light of the sun, either._

_One such flowering plant, ironically enough, had petals colored the warm, yellow-gold of sunlight. The petals also made for a very delectable tea, but that was neither here nor there._

_Despite its tenacity to grow like weeds on the roadside, one particular patch of golden flowers that grew directly beneath the massive, gaping hole that served as a one-way ticket from the surface to the underground only covered a comparatively small area space. Just large enough for a child to lie down among the flora, and still see nothing but its golden petals no matter which way the child looked, almost like a bed._

_The child lying on this flowery bed was not looking at the golden petals surrounding them. They weren't looking at much of anything, save for the inside of their head. Somehow surviving the precariously high fall from the surface to the underground, they did not survive unscathed. They had crashed into the flower patch face first, and had been instantly knocked out cold. If not for the shallow breaths inhaled and exhaled through their mouth, any onlooker would think that the fall had instantly killed the child._

_"_ H m m . . . H o w   i r o n i c . . . _"_

_Like a snake, something wormed its way out of the rich earth the golden flowers grew out of. It rose into the air, twitching and convulsing like a corrupted image on a computer screen. Sickly, bloody red in color, it bore resemblance to the outline of a heart, like the kind a kindergartner would learn to draw. It hovered over the unconscious child's body, like a jaguar surveying its prey before going in for the kill._

_"_ Y o u   p u r p o s e f u l l y   t h r e w   y o u r s e l f   o v e r   t h e   e d g e . . . w i l l i n g l y   r e s o l v e d   t o   t h r o w   y o u r   l i f e   a w a y . . . _" The 'heart' drew closer, its tainted red color bathing eerie crimson light over the child's still body. "_ B u t   i t   w a s   t h e   d e t e r m i n a t i o n   t o   o f f   y o u r s e l f   t h a t   m a d e   s u r e   y o u   s u r v i v e d   t h e   f a l l . . . H o w   v e r y   i r o n i c   i n d e e d . . . _"_

_The 'heart' became deathly still. Behind it, something materialized in the darkness. An incorporeal image of a child's face, a child with scruffy hair, pale skin, rosy cheeks, big, unblinking eyes, and an unwavering, seemingly-innocent smile. The eyes - as bloody red as the 'heart' - stared down the lying child for a short spell._

_"_. . .T h i s   i s   g o i n g   t o   b e   F U N . _"_

_Then, with the silence of a butterfly's wings, giant, gauged-out holes leaking inky blackness replaced the face's eyes, as did a twisted, torn-open smile leaking the same inky blackness replaced its grin._

_"_ **Y o u ' r e   g o i n g   t o   b e   a   g r e a t   p a r t n e r .** _"_

_With speed outracing a cobra's strike, the fragmented soul lunged forward._

 

 

\----

The cave on Mt. Ebott feels so much different than when you stumbled upon it an eternity ago. That's an exaggeration. But with all the resets you've lived through, you suppose it's safe to say it's not _that_ much of an exaggeration. It doesn't change the fact that, in more ways than one, your return to the cave on Mt. Ebott is different than your first purposeful arrival.

Undyne was right; this place really does look like a war-zone now. Powdered rock, aftermath of the entirely one-sided fight Sans told you about, dusts the cavern's floor and still lingers in its stagnant air, making it musty and irritating in your nostrils. Sans really did quite a number on the cave; it doesn't take much for you to imagine how ruthless he was in 'purging the world of that nasty little hell-spawn' (his words, not yours).

After all, you were, once a timeline ago, on the receiving end of his 'purging'.

You try not to focus on that, but it takes effort. You're not back here to remember past grievances. Yet, at the same time, you are.

You're sitting on the ground, facing the inner most reaches of the small cavern. Your hands are clasping your knees, which are folded in front of your chest. Your toes inside your snow and dirt covered boots point forward. You're sitting with your spine straight, yet keep your posed somewhat relaxed. Your mouth is kept in its default straight line, and your eyes are staring forward, trained directly upon the precariously-sized hole in the seal that was made to prevent others from meeting the fate you, and many others, met long ago.

"It's...strange, y'know," you openly confess, knowing that the one you're addressing will neither answer nor hear you. "Being back here, after everything that's happened. Especially considering that, the first two times, my purpose in coming here was to make myself 'disappear'."

You feel a twinge of discomfort in your chest. "...The first time, I don't really think it was my intention to 'off myself'. But, when I saw the hole, saw how bottomless it looked... One thing led to another, and soon I was free-falling. It was only, like, halfway down that I realized the true extent of what I was doing, changed my mind, but by then I knew it was too late..."

A breathless chuckle wheezes out of your mouth. "You were right, you know. My determination both drove me over the edge and made sure I survived the fall. Determination is strange like that, isn't it? Maybe that's why you decided to make me your unwilling 'partner'?"

Nothing but the brisk winter wind blowing through the cave mouth and against your back answers you.

"Yeah, that's right. I remember the first time I heard your voice. While I was still lying there, and you were still mulling over the decision. I remember a lot of things you said, things you made me do. But I could only remember them after you were no longer inside of me." You shrug. "Guess that's just how it goes when two souls occupying the same body don't work together in harmony."

You absentmindedly scratch an itchy spot on your nose. "...It was kinda mean of everyone to refer to you as 'it' and 'thing', in my opinion. I mean, you still were once a human being, after all. Despite what you became, you were still, in a way, you. You were still once a kid, like me. A kid with a life of their own, a friend who cherished them...and unfinished business left behind when death claimed you."

The corners of your mouth pull down in a slight frown. "...I know why you were waiting for someone like me to come along. Why you latched onto my soul with the intent of, eventually, overpowering and consuming it. You wanted your own body again. To see out the unfinished business that ended with yours and Asriel's deaths. As soon as you completely took my body for your own...you were going to get the 'good ending' and set all the monsters free, weren't you?"

Not even the whispering of wind answers you. But you know you're right.

"What I can't really wrap my head around is _why_ you would want it to end that way. I mean, in the reset timeline, you'd still be able to leave the Underground in the end. When you spent the previous one cutting down everyone in your path, why make a point to set them free in the next one? Did you want them to think you were trustworthy before resuming the slaughter? Were you only wanting to toy with them before casting them back into the Underground with another reset? Or maybe...you genuinely wanted them to go free, for Asriel's sake...?"

Complete silence.

Your frown remains, but you shrug again. "I guess only you know the answer to that. Or 'knew', I should say. Heh, I'm starting to sound like Asriel right now, aren't I? I mean, you knew him longer and better than I ever did, so you'd have a better opinion on that, wouldn't y-"

You pause, blink once, then reach one of your hands up to briefly scratch the back of your head. "Ah, geez, my train of thought's really gone off the rails right now. I had a point; where was I heading with this? Man, I guess it's really not that easy to try and talk with someone who's already dead. Especially when that someone did so much to manipulate and hurt me..."

Your train of thought gradually hops back onto its original tracks, makes the frown on your face increase when you remember the point you were trying to make.

Another twinge of discomfort in your chest makes you bring your knees closer to it. "...I can't say I condone what you did to get us to where we are now. In fact, I don't think I'll ever be okay with what you've done. What I can say...is that I can understand why you did what you did."

The wind picks up, stirring some of the dust around you.

"It sucked, didn't it?" You feel your shoulders slouch forward. "For years, you were down there, with nothing but your determination keeping you going, waiting for the opportunity to arise for you to have a second chance, to feel alive again. You must've felt so alone and forgotten...it really must've sucked, huh? Sucked enough that, when the opportunity you'd been waiting for came along...you were willing to do anything to feel real again. To feel that your life wasn't a meaningless waste..."

You rest your chin against your kneecaps, eyes looking down at your feet. "I know, I know. I'm projecting my own thoughts onto you right now. I bet you'd be saying, 'How could you possibly understand how I felt?' if you were, y'know, still around. But then I'd remind you, 'Two souls sharing the same body is a two-way window. While you suppressed my own thoughts...I could sometimes read into yours.'"

You turn your gaze back onto the hole, a small smile appearing on your lips. "Every time we fell in battle, I could hear Asgore's voice, calling out to you, encouraging you to not give up and stay determined. Every time we fell into the garbage dump, I heard Asriel's voice, from when you first met him after falling to the Underground yourself. And, when I was trying to 'save' him...I could see memories - your memories - of meeting Asriel, befriending him, finding a home and family with him..."

You move your chin off your knees, your smile growing a fraction. "We've both heard the tale the monsters had to tell on our way to the King; the tale of how your fall to the underground filled the underground with hope. Hope, which the underground had been devoid of ever since the end of the war. Your life was never meaningless; you were their beacon of hope for a brighter, better future."

Your smile lessens a fraction. "And it would've been such a shame if their image of that beacon of hope had been tainted by you succeeding in doing what you set out to do when we became 'partners'."

The winter air bites at the back of your neck, making you shiver.

A small sigh breathes out of your mouth as you lean back, placing your hands on the ground behind you for support as you stare up at the cavern's stalactite-riddled ceiling. "I know you wouldn't agree, but it really was for the best that you didn't get your 'good ending'. Now, everyone can recall the 'you' that you used to be just as they remembered you: as the first fallen human in the underground, found by Asriel, raised alongside him by the king and queen like you were one of their own, and the bringer of hope to their dark and dreary world. As for those few who know the 'you' that you became...you'll at least be able to take comfort in the fact that they'll think of the 'you' you used to be and the 'you' you became as two separate entities. At least, I _hope_ you would've been able to..."

A piece of rubble breaks off one of the collision craters left behind by Sans' handiwork, falls down onto the floor with a soft _plink_.

You close your eyes for a spell, and spend a little time listening to the quiet sounds of the cave before continuing. "Like I said earlier, I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive you for what you did to me. But, in some kind of weird, twisted sense...I should instead be _thanking_ you."

The wind whistles a haunting melody as it rushes through the cave.

You find yourself chuckling as you lean forward, moving your legs so that you now sit criss-crossed. "I mean, I honestly can't help but wonder: Could things have turned out this way if you never took interest in me? It's been eating away at me since last night, after things finally calmed down after I told them everything. I didn't get a lot of sleep I kept thinking about it so much. Well, I think I've finally come to a conclusion. Could the 'good ending' have been achieved if not for your influence over me?"

You stare down at the hands you've kept folded in your lap, a half smile on your face as you answer your own question: "No. I don't think it could've."

You hear another piece of rubble fall from somewhere else in the battered cavern with another soft _plink_.

"It's...difficult to remember what kind of person I was like before this all began," you confess as you stare at your twiddling thumbs. "From what I can remember is that I just...felt out of place, like I didn't belong anywhere, like I _couldn't_ belong anywhere. Like any choice I ever made would affect no one else but myself, like I was the extra piece that always came in those 'build-it-yourself' furniture kits. Unneeded. Unwanted. Unimportant."

Before you start feeling too sorry for yourself, you remark, "Of course, that all changed once you decided to invoke our 'partnership'."

The wind whistles its haunting melody softly.

Your gaze turns back onto the hole, a grave glint in your eyes. "Throughout the first timelines, you slowly shaped me into what you wanted me to become. I was lucky to have realized that, what you wanted me to become, it was nothing like who I wanted to be. And I was just as lucky to stop you before it was too late, to continue fighting against you for every moment after. My soul, full of determination as it is, was weak and easily influenced by your will, but it was my subconscious will to break free of yours that made it strong. Strong in ways I don't think you ever fully understood. You intended me to become your duplicate, but I became your polar opposite instead."

A half-grin curves your mouth, and you close one eye in a wink. "That's irony for ya."

You swear you hear the wind chuckle.

"...Whether I like it or not, you helped shape me into the person I am now: The merciful, determined soul full of 'love' that will never again raise their hand in violence. But I couldn't become who I am now without you; I know that now. Even though I wish, with every fiber of my being, that I didn't have to almost completely destroy everything I now hold dear to realize my own self-worth and importance."

Your half-grin fades away. Your gaze turns back to your lap, where one hand lays while the other clutches the front of your shirt, directly over where your soul resides in your chest. "You've been with me since the beginning, and you've been with me ever since. You've become a part of me, and I a part of you. Now that you're gone..."

Your clutch tightens. A tranquil smile curves your mouth. "Despite everything, it's still me."

The wind's haunting melody comes to a close.

You calmly get to your feet, dusting off the seat of your pants as you do. "I guess that's part of the reason why, in this timeline, I did everything with a new found vim and vigor. Perhaps a part of me knew there wouldn't be any more resets after this, so I subconsciously decided to milk as much fun out of this run as I could. Like when I got all those hot dogs stacked on my head; everyone got a kick outta that. And then with Shyren's concert; I really had a great time performing with her. I can't help but wonder, did you, too? Did you enjoy the fun I was having as much as I did? I really hope you did. You really struck me as the type that desperately needed to be shown a good time..."

Shifting dust from the quiet gales blowing through the cave answer you.

"...Y'know, I wanted to give you a proper funeral while I was here. Plant a seed from those golden flowers you really seemed to care about right here. But that wouldn't be the best idea, would it? Yeah; one funeral is enough, no matter how many times you've died. But, it still wouldn't sit right with me if I just left now, without a second thought. So, before I go, I'll leave you with these final words of parting:"

Your arms politely hang by your sides. Your spine is straight. Your eyes stare directly into the precariously-sized hole in the seal marking the final resting place of the one you've been addressing this whole time. A small, humble smile curves your mouth. Then, you bow your head in reverence.

"It's thanks in part to you that I was able to find new purpose and resolve in living my life to the fullest. I'll keep every memory, good and bad, with me forever. For everything that came about our 'partnership'...thank you, Chara. And I truly, _truly_ hope you'll be able to rest in peace this time."

The last sounds you hear are your own feet quietly carrying you away from Chara's final resting place.

Then the cave on Mt. Ebott, which once served as the one-way entrance to the world of monsters, becomes silent.

\----

Despite the legends that urged the masses to steer clear of the massive, imposing mountain, the view it provided from near its peak would make some think the trek, despite all warnings, entirely worth it.

The highest-most cave mouth on the mountain faced east, affording travelers who made it that far a stunning view of sunrise. The dark of pre-dawn gave way to the warm, rich purples and yellows of dawn that painted the gray clouds with their light. Piles of snow accumulated on branches of tall evergreens refracted the sunrise's light, making it look like a blanket of diamonds had covered the world. It truly was a sight to behold, should one brave the perilous trek up the mountain myths tell no one ever came back from.

Sans leaned against the mountain side near the cave's mouth, his hands in his jacket pockets and one leg crossed over the other, quietly listening as the world around him woke up to this sunrise. He heard the whistling of the wind carrying a haunting melody across the mountain top. He heard tree branches creaking under the weight of the newly fallen snow. He heard some of those branches caving in under that weight, heard snow drifts fall onto the snow-covered ground with a _fwump_. He heard the distant song of a bird greeting the morning.

It wasn't until he heard the soft crunch of snow beneath feet that he broke his silence.

"you got an interesting way of moving on, kiddo," he commented, opening one eye socket to lazily glance at the human child that had just exited the cave to his right. "but, hey, to each their own, i suppose."

Frisk walked up to the skeleton, a small smile on their face. "Thanks again for this, Sans."

His smile widened. "'s no problem, really," he said casually, both sockets opening to stare directly in front of him. "but, really, you shouldn't've sold yourself short like that."

Frisk's lips pursed in curiosity. "What do you mean?"

The expression on the skeleton's face became one of slight abash. "it's not like i was purposefully eavesdropping on your 'conversation' in there. it just sorta happened. sorry about that."

Frisk shrugged their shoulders, silently saying, 'That's okay. I'm not mad.'

"thanks. anyway, what i mean is, all that talk about how you couldn't have gotten us to where we are now without its- _their_ help; that was really belittling of yourself." He turned his skull Frisk's way, a would be brow furrowed in curiosity and slight worry. "did you say that purely for the sake of closure? or do you really believe that you wouldn't've been enough to set us all free?"

A thoughtful frown appeared on Frisk's face. Eyes cast downward, they joined Sans in leaning against the mountain side. Things between them were quiet as Frisk pondered Sans' inquiry, making the only sounds they heard the whispering of the wind, and the distant flapping of the wings of a small flock of birds taking flight.

"...Yes and no, I guess," Frisk eventually answered, their voice as soft as the powdery snow their boots were sinking into. "Yes, I did say what I said to give both of us some closure, and I guess I _do_ believe I wouldn't've been enough to get us all to the surface. But, at the same time, I _don't_?"

Frisk grumbled in frustration and rubbed their fingers to their temples. Sans remained quiet, patiently waiting for the child to get their thoughts in order.

"...When I think about it, like really sit down and think about it, I never would've lasted very long down there without their reset powers. I _was_ pretty lousy at dodging the first few times, heh. And I just...have this gut feeling that I couldn't have gotten this 'ending' in the first timeline, even if I did everything right. I really was as dependent on their reset powers as they were dependent on me to keep their soul alive."

Sans sympathetically shrugged his shoulders.

"But, who knows? Maybe I didn't need to be as dependent on their powers as I thought."

The skeleton's skull turned a fraction to the right, his smile posing curiosity. "how do you figure that?"

Frisk was looking down at their feet, one hand in their coat pocket and the other lightly placed over their chest. "They were always the one in control of the resets, whether they'd be until just moments before I fell in battle, or all the way back to the start. The only time I ever had any control was in... _that_ timeline, when I actively refused to make us appear before Asgore again. I thought that was a one-time deal, but maybe...it didn't have to be?"

Sans' skull turned more. His smile lessened a smidgen.

"Alphys called determination 'the will to keep living' and 'the resolve to change fate'. They chose me to be their host because of the determination inside me. I can't help but wonder...maybe their power to reset time didn't all come from the powers they retained from being joined with Asriel's soul. Maybe some of it came from their determination. And, maybe..."

A warm red glow appeared behind the hand on Frisk's chest. "Maybe...if I had just tried a little harder..." A small smile appeared on their face. "I could've tapped into that power all on my own..." The way the light shone on their face made it look sinister. "I could trigger another reset right here. Right now..."

Sans' sockets went pitch black.

"...I'm kidding. I'm totally, one hundred percent kidding."

Sans' white pupils returned, though they were mere tiny pinpricks of light inside his otherwise dark skull.

The warm red glow in Frisk's chest petered out. They moved their hand to the pocket of their winter coat, and turned their head upward to stare at the snowy landscape that laid before them. "I already said that I didn't want another reset to happen, remember? I couldn't make them live in darkness and despair again, especially not now, now that they know everything. I could never, ever do that to them."

They took a peek up at Sans, saw his expression, then stared at their feet. "I know, I know," they muttered, their tone humble and abash. "Sarcasm isn't funny."

The skeleton remained quiet for a spell. Eventually, he closed his sockets and cracked a grin. "heh, that was payback, wasn't it?" he asked casually. "for the whole 'dead where you stand' thing?"

"...Maybe."

Sans chuckled at the slyness in the child's voice. "alright, i deserved that," he admitted as he playfully ruffled Frisk's hair. "can't be mad at you for a reason like that, ya little rascal."

Frisk giggled, and didn't bother fixing their hair after Sans ceased tousling it up. He returned his hand to his jacket pocket, then the two of them turned their gazes onto the glittering landscape before them. They remained that way for a while, neither of them saying a word as they drank in the sight of the morning sun slowly peeking over the horizon, bathing the world in its life-giving light.

"...that reminds me of something, actually."

Frisk glanced over at Sans, curious as to what he was reminded of.

"y'know how papyrus said he was convinced you were still you when you 'didn't do a violence'?" Sans inquired, to which Frisk lightly nodded. "well, believe it or not, i had one of those moments myself."

Frisk's face lit up.

"it was about the third or fourth timeline after 'that' one. you were treating me to dinner at the hotel restaurant. i was telling you the story about the woman behind the door, and told you what would happen if i never made that promise." He guiltlessly shrugged his shoulders. "yeah, i know. you've heard that spcheal enough times you can recite it like a play script. but the time i'm talking about, the one that made me start to believe you weren't as bad as you used to act, was the first time you actually responded to me telling you 'you'd be dead where you stand'. do you remember what you said? you said, and i quote-"

"'Then you should've stopped keeping promises when you had the chance.'"

 _...ah._ Sans' smile lessened, and his pupils dimmed. _you do remember._

The silence between them was filled only by the wind's haunting melody, and by the soft whistling made by air rushing in and out of Frisk's nostrils that pushed tiny clouds of steam into the chill winter air.

"...you left before i could remind you i was only joking," Sans quietly confessed, his tone ashamed and penitent. "you looked so down; it really made me feel bad for saying it at all. something in your voice when you said that was what really got me starting to believe you weren't that bad a kid. looking back on it now, i can't help but wonder-" He turned his skull toward Frisk, a barely maintained smile on his face. "-was it you talking? or was it them?"

Frisk, their mouth in a small line and their eyes staring solemnly at the ground, pondered the question for a moment before answering, "I think it was both of us, actually. Their's was a taunt, while mine was a guilt-trip; it had a double meaning." The corners of their mouth turned downward. "...Much like 'I'll keep an eye socket out for ya' did."

Sans blew a sigh out between his teeth. No water vapor cloud appeared in the air. "...yeah. it sure did." His shoulders slumped, his sockets drooped. "they were right. i didn't trust you."

"That's okay." Frisk leaned over and rested their head against Sans' shoulder. "I wouldn't've trusted me, either."

Sans blew out another sigh. He certainly hadn't meant to let the mood get so somber. It just sorta happened. But there was no way he was going to let the two of them leave until Frisk was smiling again.

So, he cracked a grin himself. "it's shaping up to be a beautiful day today, isn't it?" he casually asked, sockets pointed toward the sunrise. "a beautiful day full of endless possibilities, just waiting for people like you and me to reach out and grab 'em. every day out here's gonna be full of endless possibilities. and now, now that we'll be able to stay out here, without the fear of suddenly returning to the dark..." His smile brightened, hopeful calmness washing over his expression. "i honestly can't wait to see what the future has in store for us."

Frisk's head moved away from Sans' shoulder, so that they could give him the confused, somewhat suspicious, look on their face. "The way you said that...are you saying you trust me now?"

Sans withdrew one hand from his jacket pocket, in order to encircle the arm around Frisk's shoulder in a one-armed hug. "what i'm saying-" One eye socket closed in a wink. "-is that i think i can learn to."

Surprise washed over Frisk's face. Then, as red tinted their cheeks, they looked away and hid their smile against Sans' sleeve. "You're such a cool big brother, Sans," they shyly muttered.

Sans arched a would be brow in intrigue. "cooler than your big bro papyrus?"

"Aww, c'mon! Don't make me answer that!" Frisk protested as they playfully pushed Sans' arm away, their cheeks turning redder as they tried - and horribly failed - to hide their meek smile behind their hand. "Asking me that is like asking Dogamy and Dogaressa who loves the other more. It's an...im _paw_ ssible choice!"

Despite themself, Frisk started chuckling at their pun. Then a sizable snow poff broke off from the rest of the snow accumulated on the mountain side overhead and fell directly onto their head with a _fwump_ , making all laughter from the child cease.

"oh my god it happened. it actually happened." Tears in the corners of his sockets and his hands pressed, palms together, in front of his widely-grinning mouth, Sans was trying very hard not to start guffawing. "someone made a pun so bad - even by _my_ standards - that nature... _pun_ ished them for it. this is the greatest moment of my-"

_Fwump._

A second snow poff fell directly onto Sans' head.

The two snow-topped individuals silently stared at one another. Then both filled the mountain top with howling laughter.

Sans was laughing so much, tears were in his sockets and he was bent over so much he almost dropped to his knees. Frisk was laughing so much, they were on their back in the snow and tightly hugging their arms around their chest to restrain themself from flailing like a fish out of water. Both were filled with so much joy and merriment, it felt like they would stay that way forever.

Then Frisk loudly sneezed.

It took effort, but Sans was able to subdue his laughter enough to help Frisk get back to their feet. "a-alright, alright. that's enough of that."

Frisk sniffled as they rubbed their turning-red nose against their coat sleeve. Meanwhile, Sans began to swipe off as much snow as he could from Frisk's head and shoulders. "this place is colder than ice wolf's ice, ain't it? we don't get you out of this air soon, not only will tori be mad that we snuck out while everyone else was still sleepin', but that you got sick from it, too."

Frisk nodded in agreement as they dusted snow off their pants. Then, once satisfied, they smiled widely and held their hand out toward Sans.

Sans, satisfied with their smile, grinned back. "alright. let's get you home." He took their tiny hand in his, felt them lightly shiver at his cool touch. "i know a shortcut."

They walked a little ways down the mountain path, the only sound between them the crunch of snow beneath their feet before Frisk posed a question: "Hey, Sans, do you think you're ever gonna tell me how your 'shortcuts' work?"

The skeleton heartily chuckled. "maybe one day, kiddo. maybe one day..."

The pair rounded a corner, then all that was left to signify that they had been atop Mt. Ebott that winter morning were their footprints, which were already starting to disappear by the wind stirring the powdery snow up enough to cover their tracks, which had abruptly, mysteriously stopped further down the path.


	2. Chapter 2

_You've never been happier to see sunlight in your entire life._

_The rich vermilion of sunset bathes you in its warm glow. How long has it been since you've been in the sun? Certainly not as long as it had been for the monsters that've been around since the war. But it'd be fair to say that it's definitely been quite a long time since you've felt the sun on your skin, breathed in fresh air, realized how vast the world outside the underground truly is. You're normally pretty quiet, but now, you're stricken dumb with speechlessness._

_"...isk?"_

_A gentle touch to your shoulder makes you flinch, makes you remember you aren't gaping at this breathtaking sunset alone. You look up and to your right, and see the kindly face of the goat monster you've recently taken to calling 'Mom' gently smiling down at you. "My dear," she says patiently, "you've been asked a question."_

_Twice you blink. Seems you've also been as stricken deaf as much as you've been stricken speechless. Your gaze wanders down the line of monsters standing side-by-side along the edge of the cliff just outside where the barrier had been. They're all half-looking at you, half-gawking at the scenery that lays before their eyes. Only until you reach the end of the line do you see that Asgore is pointedly staring right at you, cluing you into the fact that he had posed the question Toriel just told you about._

_He chuckles heartily at the lost expression you know is on your face. "What I asked, Frisk, is if you were interested in becoming an ambassador to us monsters."_

_You blink again, and point the tip of your left index finger to yourself. "...Me?"_

_Asgore nods. "Now that we are no longer trapped underground, re-integrating with the humans will be...rocky, at best. I can hardly imagine things between our races will be smoothed-over overnight. So, the thought occurred to me just now..." He scratches sheepishly at his golden beard. "If you were to be our ambassador, it would help to assuage the fears of the masses, both for the humans and for us monsters. Make our re-integration run more smoothly. So, what do you say?" There's a desperate kind of hope in his smile as he asks you, once again, "Would you be interested in becoming our ambassador?"_

_"I-If it helps any," Alphys pipes up, her stuttering voice full of encouragement, "I think y-you'd make a great ambassador, Frisk!"_

_"Yeah, me too!" Undyne agrees, her grin stretching fin to fin. "You're still a total weenie, but I think that'd actually be a good thing in this situation! Fuhuhuhu!"_

_"YOU ARE VERY GREAT, FRISK," Papyrus proclaims. "OF COURSE, NOT AS GREAT AS I. BUT STILL! YOU'D MAKE THE BEST AMBASSADOR EVER! JUST BELIEVE IN YOURSELF, LIKE I DO! NYEH HEH HEH!"_

_Sans doesn't say anything, but you see him give you a wink._

_"The choice is yours, my child." Toriel cups her large palm around the back of your head, a matronly smile on her snout. "And, if it helps, know that you will have my full support, should you accept Asgore's proposal."_

_Under everyone's gazes and encouragement, you start feeling overwhelmed with shyness. Before you really think about what it would mean to be ambassador to all monsters, you look away, lightly scratch a not-itchy spot on the side of your face, and meekly answer, "I...I guess I could do that."_

_Everyone sounds pleased with your acceptance, Asgore especially. Soon, everyone disperses; setting off to explore the brand new world your actions have opened up for them. First Papyrus, then Sans. Next Undyne and Alphys. Lastly Asgore, who tells you that he'll explain more about your job as the new ambassador later. Only you and Toriel remain upon the cliff path overlooking the sunset, the silence between you filled only with the haunting melody of the gentle breeze blowing in from the west, and the distant chirping of crickets waking for the encroaching nightfall._

_"What will you do now, Frisk?" Toriel eventually asks, a rueful tone in her inquiry. "Surely, you must have a place to return to here, in this world. But, if you wish..."_

_She trails off before she can present the second option she's obviously considering, and the distant look in her copper red eyes suggests that she feels somewhat ashamed to have even considered the second option. It doesn't take much for you to piece together what she was going to suggest. But, right now, your thoughts are filled with the first option she presented to you._

_Your life before the Underground. Try as you might, you can't seem to recall what your life before all this was like. All you can recall is a thought; a feeling welling within your chest, growing so great it makes you shudder. The thought, the feeling that, no matter what, you can never go back to the life you had before the Underground._

_This overwhelming feeling makes your choice clearer than crystal. "Can..." Too shy to look her in the eye, you reach your hand up to lightly cling to the hem of her sleeve. "Can I stay with you, Mom?"_

_You don't hear anything from her for the first few seconds. Then, "My dear child-" You hear joyful tears in her voice as she gently removes her sleeve out of your grasp, only to replace it with her large, fluffy hand completely encompassing yours. "-of course you can."_

_You're still feeling too shy to look her way, or to even speak up again. But you let her know of your gratitude with the small smile that curves your mouth._

_She begins leading you down the path the others took before you, having to stoop down a little so you won't have to strain yourself to keep your hand in hers. "To think," she chuckles as she walks. "If you had said that earlier, none of this would have happened. But, still, it is a good thing you took so long to change your mind."_

_With her back to you, she doesn't see the rueful smirk your smile evolves into._ You have no idea...

\----

**Two Years Later**

\----

"I do hope we are not late..."

"NONSENSE, YOUR MAJ- TORIEL! WHEN THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS BEHIND THE WHEEL, YOU CAN GUARANTEE WE'LL ARRIVE ON TIME!"

"not only will we get there in time, tori, we'll get there...with time to _spare_."

"Hee hee hee!"

"THAT'S IT. YOU'RE WALKING."

Even though he said this, there was no decrease in the velocity of Papyrus' car. And there still wasn't, even after Sans protested, "aw, c'mon, bro. don't do that to me. you don't want me to arrive completely... _tire_ d out, do ya?"

"Pfffffhee hee hee hee!"

"UGH! YOU'RE SO IMPOSSIBLE, SANS!!"

Street lamps lining the sides of the long highway the red convertible sped down flickered to life, no doubt in response to the encroaching twilight turning the sky from oranges and reds to star-studded black. Papyrus took note of this, and flicked on his car's headlights, bathing the road in front of the car with yellow-white light. Doing so also made the back-light of the vehicle's dashboard clock light up, reminding both driver and passengers to their swiftly approaching deadline.

"Oh, I knew we should have left earlier," Toriel, sitting in the front passenger side with the seat scooted as far back as it could, commented, a worried frown on her muzzle as the wind made her floppy ears whip back and forth against her head. "It seems I misjudged how far we would have to drive this year..."

"FRET NOT, TORIEL!" Papyrus, somehow posing heroically even with both hands on the wheel and his sockets trained on the road, loudly assured the former queen over the wind rushing around them. "WE WILL DEFINITELY ARRIVE AT THE APPOINTED TIME! EVEN THOUGH THAT SIGN SAYS I MUST REDUCE SPEED FURTHER AHEAD, WE WILL NOT BE LATE! NYEH HEH HEH!"

Indeed, the car did go slower further ahead, but the brimming confidence in the tall skeleton behind the wheel was contagious. It assuaged most of Toriel's concerns about tonight's events. Most, but sadly, not all.

Sans, sitting in the seat behind Papyrus', sensed the goat monster's persisting distress and reached over to pat her shoulder. "i get why you're worried, tori," he sympathetically claimed, having to raise his voice a little so he could be heard over the wind. "i mean, it's the ambassador's summit; biggest night of the year for most humans and monsters. but taking a look at how well last year's turned out, it wouldn't hurt to take a chill pill or two, would it?"

A forceful sigh was exhaled through her mouth, but the corners of it turned up in a small smile. "No," she agreed as she patted her paw over Sans' hand on her shoulder. "I suppose it would not hurt at all."

Sans' smile widened. "and, hey, if my word's not enough, take a look at frisk." he pulled his hand away to jab his thumb to his right. "they're the guest of honor, and they're so at peace it looks like they took a whole bottle of chill pills already."

It was true. Frisk sat in the seat directly beside Sans, their head rolled back against the car's headrest, their hair blowing wildly behind them in the wind. With eyes closed and peaceful breaths passing in and out of their barely parted mouth, the human's face looked to be the dictionary definition of tranquility.

"of course, heh," Sans commented, his would be brows creasing in curiosity, "that may just be because they're asleep. hey, frisk?" He whistled a two-note tune as he waved a hand in front of their face. "you awake in there, kiddo?"

Only the sound of their breathing answered the skeleton, confirming his suspicions.

"Frisk, dear, it is time to wake up," Toriel cooed, reaching an arm back to gently jostle their knee. "We will be arriving at the summit soon. You need to wake up now."

"...uuhhhhnnn..."

A groggy groan left Frisk's mouth as their eyes fluttered open. After staring up a while at the starry night sky above, another groggy groan was heard as they rubbed their fingertips against their eyelids. "Are we there yet..?" they asked, a tired drawl in their voice.

"INDEED WE ARE, FRISK!" Papyrus announced as he flicked on his turn signal before switching lanes. "LOOK TO YOUR LEFT! THERE'S THE BUILDING OVER THERE!"

The convertible's passengers turned their heads to the left, and past the street lamps flashing by, saw their destination. It was a big building - bigger than 20 Grillby's combined - made of polished marble. Large archways supported by thick, round columns of the same polished marble welcomed both monsters and humans into its walls. A parking lot the size of Snowdin was half full of parked vehicles already, with a few more pulling up into the available parking spaces.

After taking the off-ramp, Papyrus expertly followed every twist and curve of the road that lead up to the building. And one would hope he would do so expertly, considering how much he studied and practiced for his driver's exam about a year back. As he pulled into the parking lot, he did not join the other lines of cars to file into the parking spaces. No; because of his - and his passengers - VIP status, he was able to bypass the lines and park his convertible in a specially set apart parking spot right beside the marble steps leading inside.

"YOU SEE?" After putting his gearshift into 'Park', he proudly looked to his passengers and puffed out his chest. "WE HAVE ARRIVED WITH TIME TO SPARE! NYEH HEH HEH HEH!"

Toriel and Sans stifled snickers at the unintentional (at least they thought it was unintentional) pun Papyrus just made. Frisk, still rubbing the sleep out of their eyes, had no snickers to stifle.

"Oooooohhh darlings! You've finally arrived!"

As the convertible's occupants filed out onto the pavement, the smooth, metallic voice of Mettaton called out to them over the crowds of monsters and humans filing into the building. His rectangular form was spotted coming their way, and soon enough, he was in front of them.

"Greetings, Mettaton," Toriel greeted the robot. "I hope everything has been going well so far."

"Everything's been running silky smooth, darling," Mettaton assured the former royal. "Asgore, Undyne, and Dr. Alphys arrived a little before you all and are already inside, talking up the masses with their stories. But enough about that! Before I can let our very important persons into the summit, a test must be passed! A test to see how absolutely gorgeous you've presented yourselves to be for this night! Let's begin with you, dear Toriel! Hmmm...ah yes. You went for the radiant, sophisticated look; it reflects greatly on your queenly grace! And might I add that lilac is such a stunning color on you."

Toriel wore a simple short-sleeved dress that fell to just above her ankles. The skirt flared out a bit to make it easy for her to the walk, and the lilac fabric around her waist and chest comfortably hugged her body. Her sleeves poofed out a bit, and she wore a simple black gemstone necklace around her neck. "Th-Thank you, Mettaton," she stammered, a shy blush coloring her cheeks from receiving such a compliment.

"Always a pleasure, Toriel," the robot simpered, then turned to give Papyrus his judgement. "Hmm...ah yes. I can always count on the great Papyrus to dress sharply and grandly! And keeping your cape, wearing it as a scarf; a very glamorous addition if I do say so myself!"

Papyrus wore shiny black dress shoes and black dress pants. A matching black tailcoat hugged around his torso over a white, long-sleeved, collared dress shirt. Sandwiched between the dress shirt and tailcoat was a form-fitting black vest, with a gold chain dangled between its pockets. His cape/scarf was looped twice around his neck, making its ends hang down in front of his chest. "NYEH HEH! RATHER SPORTING, ISN'T IT?" he gloated, placing one white-gloved hand over his chest and the other on his pelvis, striking a heroic pose as the ends of his tailcoat flapped out behind him in the gentle wind. "FRISK ASSISTED IN PICKING THIS SUIT OUT FOR ME. AND I JUST HAD TO WEAR IT ONCE I SAW HOW JAW-DROPPED AND AWESTRUCK THEY WERE AT MY MAGNIFICENT APPEARANCE! NYEH HEH HEH HEH!"

"Our darling Frisk must get their tasteful fashion sense from me then," Mettaton crooned, but once he turned to the tall skeleton's brother, his expression fell (though it was hard to tell because he had no face in his rectangular form). "Ah yes. Sans. I can always count on you to be absolutely unkempt about your appearance, can't I? I mean, honestly, do you only own the one outfit??"

At a glance, it seemed that the only difference between what Sans usually wore and what he wore now was that he traded out his fuzzy house slippers for a pair of beat-up sneakers that weren't even tied up. "'course i own more than the one outfit," Sans protested, winking as he spread his arms out, keeping his hands in his jacket pockets as he did. "see?"

He had swapped out his usual white turtleneck with a black T-shirt, on which was printed the image of the front of a tuxedo.

Mettaton looked absolutely defeated. He did even more so to see Toriel and Papyrus helplessly shrug, silently saying, 'We tried. We really tried.' Sighing dramatically, he pinched the place on his front where the bridge of his nose would be between a forefinger and thumb. "It's a start, I suppose."

His disappointed mood did not last for long. The grid lights on his front lighting up, he turned to the last person that needed to pass his 'glamour evaluation'. "And last, but most definitely not least, Frisk. Frisk, Frisk, Frisk, you beautiful, darling angel... Not that there's anything wrong with the 'wind-tossed' look, but wouldn't you agree that the ambassador to all monsters needs to appear a tad more professional?"

Frisk wore black loafers and gray slacks, which were held up by suspenders. A white, long-sleeved, button-up, form-fitting shirt clothed their upper body, the bottom of which was tucked into their pants. A gray bow-tie was neatly fastened beneath their shirt's collar. A gray vest covered their chest, partially hid their suspenders, and in its left-chest lapel one of the golden flowers Toriel kept in her garden was pocketed. "If you say so," Frisk muttered halfheartedly, eyes turning upward to partially stare at the bangs that had been blown this way and that from driving with the roof down.

"I _do_ say so, darling! I just can't rightfully allow our beloved representative appear so unkempt! But don't worry your gorgeous little head, Frisk." Mettaton retracted his arms into his body, and upon bringing them back out, a handful of hair-styling tools were in both hands. "Your dear Uncle Mettaton always comes prepared!"

Before another word could be said, in protest or otherwise, Mettaton rushed in to 'save' Frisk's hair. His arms and hands moved faster than the untrained eye could see, so it wasn't long at all before he was finished and satisfied with his work. Frisk's bangs now hung straight down across their forehead, and the rest of their just past shoulder-length brown hair had been pulled back into a small ponytail at the base of their neck.

"There we are! Absolutely-wait. _Wait_. Idea!" With the most delicate of graces, Mettaton plucked the golden flower in Frisk's lapel, then tucked it into their hair, right beside the left ear. " _There_ we are! Now you're absolutely breath-taking!"

"AH, YES. IT IS A MARKED IMPROVEMENT!" Papyrus proclaimed.

"It really makes you look more adorable, Frisk," Toriel added with a giggle.

Frisk, their gaze glancing up to the flower in their hair, quietly replied, "Thank you, Mettaton."

Needless to say, the reply made everyone's cheerful expressions lessen.

"Frisk, are you alright?" Mettaton placed his fingertips beneath Frisk's chin, lifting it up so he could get a better look at their face. "You don't seem your usual cheery, enthusiastic self, darling."

"You do look a little pale," Toriel commented before laying her palm against Frisk's forehead. "Are you feeling well, my child?"

"Hmm? Oh, uh, yeah, I'm fine. I'm fine." After shooing away everyone's hands, Frisk rubbed at the inner corners of their eyes with a forefinger and thumb. "I'm just...still not fully woken up yet from nodding off on the way here, that's all."

Their tone wasn't very convincing, but it was supposed that could've been because of their tiredness, so no one raised any arguments.

"Mr. Mettaton! Mr. Mettaton!"

Heads turned in the direction of someone calling out Mettaton's name. Soon, a woman wearing all black, her hair tied back in a messy bun, and a headset on her head, came running up to the group. "Mr. Mettaton, sir," she addressed the robot, her dialect formal yet strainfully so, like she was resisting the urge to freak out at being in Mettaton's presence. "You're needed back inside for sound check."

"Of course. Be right there, darling. Now, Frisk-" He turned on his wheel and clasped Frisk's shoulders, staring them dead in the eye. "I do hope you'll be more wakeful and energetic before I go on. Because even though it'll be more classical than what you usually see from me, it will still be absolutely beautiful! And I want your voice to be the loudest when you cheer for me! Okay?"

Before Frisk could even nod, Mettaton was already following the woman back into the building. "I'll see you all later, darlings!" he called back over his shoulder, and soon, he was out of sight.

The group of four waved after him, one less energetically than the others. Toriel noticed this, and frowned. "Frisk-" She brushed the back of her paw against Frisk's cheek, worry in her expression. "-if you are really not feeling well, know that we can always leave early."

"...I'll be fine, Mom," Frisk insisted, giving the tall monster a smile as they placed their palm against hers. "I just need a little pick-me-up is all. And, really, what's an ambassador's summit without the ambassador?"

They closed one eye in a wink and held their hands up, their forefingers and thumbs positioned like they were pistols. "A _mountain top_ is what it is."

A moment of silence passed before Sans loudly chuckled. "heh heh heh heh, if you're well enough to be making bad jokes, you're well enough for tonight." He moved to ruffle Frisk's hair, but settled for a high-five once the work put into getting their hair tidy was remembered.

"A PICK-ME-UP, YOU SAY?" Papyrus pondered, a sly grin on his skull. "WELL, I KNOW THE PERFECT PICK-ME-UP!"

With a swipe of his arms, Papyrus lifted Frisk up into the air and placed them atop his shoulders. "FOOD ALWAYS MAKES ME MORE ENERGETIC AFTER A LONG, ARDUOUS DAY! NOW COME!" After making sure they were secure atop his shoulders, Papyrus sprinted off towards the building's entrance. "LET US SEE WHAT BANQUET'S BEEN PREPARED FOR OUR AMBASSADOR! NYEH HEH HEH!"

"Onward!" Frisk playfully cried out, one arm clinging to Papyrus' head while the other pointed forward.

Toriel and Sans were left in the wake of Papyrus' dust, quietly staring off after the tall skeleton and the human perched atop his shoulders. That is, it was quiet between them until Sans stated, with surety, "you're not convinced they're feelin' a hundred percent."

Toriel crossed her arms over her chest, a concerned frown on her muzzle. "They really do look pale..."

Sans' skull bobbed up and down in an agreeing nod. "well, don't worry too much about it, tori." He looked up and gave her a wink. "i'll keep an eye socket out for 'em."

His words made a smile return to Toriel's face. "Just like you always have, yes?"

"exactly." Still winking, he held a hand out toward the taller goat monster. "shall we?"

Toriel giggled as she took his hand in hers. "Yes, we shall."

They walked together into the summit hall.

\----

Despite its namesake, the annual monster/human ambassador's summit was more a cultural festival than an actual meeting between dignitaries and ambassadors. Yes, officials would gather to discuss any major issues that cropped up between the re-integrated races, but with the successes already reaped from welcoming monsters back into the surface world, there were never any major issues to discuss. The economy flourished because of the monster's currency being gold, there was never an issue with housing, and despite previous concerns, monsters and humans were able to get along famously.

Business boomed for the underground's previous restaurant owners and shop keepers. Grillby was well on his way to becoming a restaurant tycoon, though he actively refused to sacrifice the quality of his place of business so Grillby's wouldn't become a soulless restaurant chain. Muffet and the Nice Cream guy had decided to run a joint business together (baked goods and ice cream sold well together; who knew?). Bratty and Catty, despite their wares, were able to keep themselves financially stable. Gerson became quite well-renounced for correcting errors in history books, and for having a very wholesome laugh. The bunny sisters of Snowdin ran business like usual, and decided to settle down in the snowy mountains of the north. Burgerpants was still Burgerpants. Temmie was still Temmie.

These faces, and many more, made an appearance tonight. Grillby both prepared and served food for those gathered in the great hall, which was an extravagant spread of dishes made both by magic and by human hands. Joining him in the serving were several monsters - including Vegetoid, RG 01 and RG 02, the Nice Cream guy, Burgerpants - and several human wait-staff. Muffet had wasted no time in setting up a miniature version of her bakery in the summit hall, and it was thanks to a little economics lesson from Frisk that her prices weren't ridiculously high. Of course that turned out to be as successful as her regular bakery, though it was believed that it was the way she smiled and licked her lips at her customers that made the pastries sell well. Icecap would use the opportunity to trot out his newest fashion designs.

Doggo (and his eye-seeing dog), Dogamy, Dogaressa, Lesser Dog, and Greater Dog helped with security, though they were easily distracted when someone couldn't resist the urge to pet and play with them. Also among the security were Whimsalot, Knight Knight, Astigmatism, Mad Dummy, and Loox; they did pretty well, even though there were really no fights to break up or rude attendees to be asked to leave. It made one wonder if there really was a need for security for the events.

Speaking of events, the one that would take up a majority of the evening was the variety show Mettaton had insisted on adding to the schedule, most likely because the success of last year's summit causing the summit to be relatively short. "Everyone already came out all this way; why not send them off in style?~" was his argument to let him get his way. It actually turned out to be a great idea; dinner and a show was always a crowd-pleaser. And no one could turn their nose up at the talents queued up for the night. Snowdrake and his father putting on their act, Madjick mystifying the audience with street magic, Napstablook DJ-ing, Shyren enrapturing the audience with her songs, Moldsmal stupefying the audience with wiggly back-up dancing. And, of course, Mettaton would bring it all home with his own brand of classy glamour, which consisted mostly of him lying dramatically across a grand piano while singing a sultry serenade, accompanied by Napstablook's ghoulish beats and Shyren's hauntingly melodious voice. It provided just the right touch to liven up what could've been just another night.

Enthusiastic applause filled the hall as soon as Mettaton finished his encore. "Thank you, thank you, one and all!" he crooned as he, Shyren, and Napstablook took a bow. "You're all too kind! I hope all you beauties and gentle-beauties enjoy the rest of the evening!"

The applause persisted even after Mettaton and company left the stage and the curtains drew closed. No doubt about it, the robot was just as popular on the surface than he was back in the underground, if not even more so with such a larger audience to entertain. With the variety show over, and the official reason for the gathering taken care of, there was really not much left to do for the patrons except to finish their meals and catch up with everyone.

"...and then, I wiped-out so hard, it created a ten-foot wave that wiped-out everyone on the beach!"

A round of giggles and snickers went around the circular table Asgore, Undyne, Alphys, Toriel, Frisk, Sans, and Papyrus all sat at after Undyne finished telling everyone just one of the many experiences she had on her and Alphys' honeymoon. "It is good to hear you two had such a good time, Undyne and Alphys," Asgore commented, one paw absentmindedly adjusting the tie around his neck.

"I SURE WISH I COULD'VE BEEN THERE," Papyrus sighed, his elbows on the table as he propped his chin in his hands. "WIND-SURFING SOUNDS SUPER FUN!"

"The whole point of a honeymoon is for a married couple to spend time together _alone_ , Papyrus," Undyne reminded the tall skeleton, one hand unbuttoning the front of her suit jacket so she could remove it; either the inside of the building was getting warmer, or Vulkin was close by. "And, believe me, compared to all the other fun things we did, wind-surfing was the equivalent of watching grass grow! Fuhuhuhu!"

Alphys blushed a deep red and looked down, her claws absentmindedly fiddling with the sparkly black fabric of her dress. "U-Undyne, n-not in front of everyone, eheheh..."

"WOWIE! I WANT TO GO ON A HONEYMOON TOO!"

"you don't necessarily have to go on a honeymoon to go wind-surfing, bro," Sans commented, swirling the contents of the ketchup bottle in his hands like one would swirl around wine in a glass. "if you want, we can make that one of our go-to places on this year's road-trip."

"AN EXCELLENT IDEA, BROTHER!" Papyrus agreed. "I'LL ADD IT TO OUR ITINERARY!"

"You will be taking another road trip this year?" Asgore inquired.

"yup," Sans confirmed before taking a swig. "pap's got his heart set on making it a family tradition."

"SPEAKING OF! TORIEL!" The taller skeleton turned to the former queen, an expression on his face like a child asking for a second helping of dessert. "IS IT ALRIGHT IF FRISK JOINS US AGAIN THIS YEAR? IT WILL BE DURING THE SUMMER AGAIN, SO SCHOOL WILL NOT BE AN ISSUE!"

Frisk's face lit up when the road-trip was first mentioned. It lit up more at Papyrus' proposal. "Can I, Mom?" they asked, turning to her with the same expression as Papyrus' on their face. "Please please _pleeeaaaase_?"

Toriel snickered at the big, puppy-dog eyes both Frisk and Papyrus were giving her. "Hee hee, I see no problem with it. So long as you do well in school, and promise to take plenty of pictures, yes, Frisk. You can go on another road-trip with your 'big brothers'."

"YAY!!" Both Frisk and Papyrus cheered and pumped their fists into the air, then Papyrus reached over Sans' head to give Frisk a double high-five.

"glad to have you back on board, kiddo," Sans grinned as he also gave Frisk a high five. "and, by the way, you're once again in charge of paying for gas."

Frisk rolled their eyes and playfully shoved Sans' shoulder. Sans chuckled, and moved to take another swig-

"Oh my god Sans are you okay??"

The tip of the nozzle stopped an inch from his mouth. Seeing where the horrified expressions of those sitting across from him were pointed at, his white pupils swiveled down to his chest. At first, he couldn't see what was making everyone stare at him like that.

Then he noticed the red bleeding through the front of his shirt.

A split-second. That was all it took for Sans' face to perfectly mirror the horror-struck expressions on the faces of those staring at him. The second half of that split-second. That was all it took for him to more closely look at the bottle in his hand.

"...whoops." His grin wide and on the goofy side, he looked to those staring at him and closed one socket in a wink. "wrong ketchup."

Relief instantly washed over the faces of everyone in Sans immediate vision. But that wasn't enough. "actually, this is good," he went on to say after placing the bottle back on the table. "now i got a good counter-argument whenever someone says i...can't take a _condiment_."

A chorus of giggles and groans was music in his non-existent ears. He basked in it before realizing one chorus member was not adding in the music. He glanced down to his right to see Frisk silently staring at him, staring straight at his chest, staring directly at the red bleeding through his shirt.

They looked away the instant they sensed Sans' sockets on them, turned their face straight down at their plate. In the split-second between when he caught them staring at him and when they looked away, he got a pretty decent look of the expression on their face. That expression on their face...

...Well, he wouldn't grace it with a description.

"welp. i'm gonna go freshen up."

With that, he scooted his chair back and got up. "hey, papyrus, you want anything from the bathroom gift shop?"

Papyrus turned to his brother, surprise on his features. "THERE'S A GIFT SHOP IN THE BATHROOM??"

"yup. apparently it's a new thing this year."

"COOL! IN THAT CASE, I WANT A SNOW GLOBE! OR A NEW ACTION FIGURE!"

"you got it, bro." With that, Sans walked away.

"Hey, that reminds me, did I tell you all about the time Alphys dared me to dive bomb into an active volcano?"

"What I told you was that you _shouldn't_ dive bomb into an active volcano, Undyne!"

"Details, details! Anyway, so I'm staring into the mouth of this volcano, there's boiling hot lava _everywhere_ -"

"Undyne oh my _god_."

Sans walked away to the sound of the table's occupants' good-natured laughter. He took one last fleeting glance at the table, and the first thing he saw was Frisk, who was no longer touching a thing on their plate. In fact, they were no longer doing much of anything, save for staring at their food with the same expression as before on their paler-than-normal face.

His smile lessened. He turned a corner, then disappeared into a hallway.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: vomiting

_Since the Underground had no weather, Sans was entirely inexperienced in dealing with the snowstorm he and Frisk were in. Being a skeleton, the only real hindrance he had in this weather was limited eye-sight. Being a human, the only real hindrance Frisk had in this weather was limited eye-sight, along with everything else._

_Already out cold (pun somewhat intended) by the time Sans had short-cutted into the cave atop Mt. Ebott, he knew there'd be little to no time to lose to make sure the unconscious child in his arms would survive the night. "okay, okay," he muttered absentmindedly, the blue fire in his socket petering down as he took a good look-around the cave. "what've we got to work with?"_

_Not much, as he was quick to deduce. In warmer weather, vines would sprawl out along every surface of the cave, nearly cover every inch of it. In the dead of winter, the plant life had died down. So kindling for a fire was not an option. The cave was very bare bones (pun more intentionally intended)._

_In his arms, Frisk was shaking so much it was making his bones rattle._

_"guess it can't be helped," he said to himself as he supported Frisk's body in one arm, so as to shimmy his other one out of his jacket's sleeve. "i'll be wanting this back though, y'hear?"_

_Only the sound of Frisk's weak, shuddering breaths answered him._

_He switched them over to his other arm, and shimmied his jacket completely off. It lay on the ground, and Sans smoothed it out a bit with his foot before, with the most cautious and gentle of movements, lying Frisk down on top of it. Kneeling down beside them, he at least tried to raise their body heat by gathering the fabric of his jacket not pinned underneath the child's body in his hands, then earnestly rubbing their arms. "this is the most i can do for you right now, frisk," he confessed, somehow still able to smile even though he was deathly worried for the child's well-being. "but, i know you're not gonna let a little frost-bite make you bite the dust. yeah, you're_ way _too determined to go out like that."_

_The friction he was creating against their arms seemed to be helping. They weren't shaking as much as before, and their breaths sounded more peaceful, and not the 'last-dying-breath' kind of peaceful._

_His rubbing slowed to a stop. He gingerly pressed his palm against the child's chest. "...i'm still rootin' for ya, kid," he said as soon as he felt their steady heartbeat beneath his skeletal fingertips. "so don't you dare give up yet."_

_Raspy breaths answered him. He inhaled deeply and closed his sockets. Upon the exhale, the hand on Frisk's chest became coated in a burning blue aura._

_"also, sorry for this."_

_With one careful, swift movement, Frisk's soul was now outside their body._

_Their back arched the slightest bit as Sans used his magic to turn the soul blue and pull it out of the child's chest. He didn't pull it all the way out, though. Just far enough that it was all the way out in the open, but remained as close to their body as he could afford it to be right now._

_He had to do this. He had to make sure. His thoughts had been racing non-stop since seeing what he saw when Frisk was wailing against his chest. Theories grew like weeds inside his skull; each time one got debunked, three more would take its place. He had no time to test them all out, but one in particular was meticulously interest-holding. It was one he could properly test out. It was why he was now keeping Frisk's soul in his magical grasp. If he was right, and history had yet to prove he was more wrong than right, then the connection between the incorporeal image of a red-eyed child he saw earlier and Frisk's sudden fatigue after its appearance lay in the calm, still soul in his-_

_"hel-lo." His sockets opened, his would be brows furrowed in intrigue. "what have we here?"_

_There was no doubt that Frisk's soul felt different in his hold now than it had felt in his hold when the two of them were making an effort to kill each other. Back then, the blood lust and LOVE that filled it was unmistakable. Now, the mercy and love that filled it was unmistakable, but there was something else unmistakable there, too. It was faint; feeling an earthworm crawl through the dirt beneath one's bare foot would've been easier to feel. But Sans could feel it there, and Sans had felt it before._

_It was the same bloodthirsty feeling that had encompassed Frisk's soul in the timeline when they fought each other to the death. He could feel it pitifully struggling against his grasp, feel it wriggling around the circumference of Frisk's soul like a fish out of water._

_His thoughts began racing again. The theories grew and spread like wildfire. "well isn't this interesting." His expression grew sly. "i got no clue what you are, but i got a gut feeling that, whatever you are, you don't belong in there."_

_With the way it wriggled, it was like an animal that knew it was being brought to the slaughter, fighting one last pitch effort for freedom. It was a pitiful effort._

_His sly smirk grew wider. "don't go throwin' a tantrum now." His left eye socket began burning blue, his magic focusing more on what was around Frisk's soul than Frisk's soul itself. "i caught you fair and square. be a good whatever you are and_ get your filthy mitts off of- _"_

_"Nngh..!"_

_The quiet whimper made Sans become statue still, made the burning in his socket fizzle out. His white pupils swiveled to the direction of the noise, and ended up finding Frisk's face. Their expression didn't differ much from earlier, but the subtle furrow of their brows showed discomfort, pain._

_It was clear to Sans now that trying to detach whatever was around Frisk's soul by pure force alone would do more harm than good._

_"...persistent little pest, aren't'cha?" His smirk remained, though it was growing rueful. "desperate, too. that's a tricky combination to deal with. calls for some tricky countermeasures. temperamental, too. dangerous..."_

_He no longer smirked. His barely maintained smile remained rueful, the gaze in his sockets dark and calculating. He had to detach whatever was around Frisk's soul, and not knowing what it was only made the need to do so intensify. If force alone wasn't going to work, he knew another method that had a better chance to. In one fluid, uninterrupted motion, he could get whatever it was off of Frisk's soul faster than RG 02's armor would come off after a good scrub-down. But this method...if he wasn't precise in its execution, if his hands weren't steady enough, if he wasn't careful enough..._

_"...and here i thought i'd never have to bust another of these things out on you again." His eyes looked woefully to Frisk's face, an apologetic half-grin curving his mouth. "i really am the worst at keeping promises, aren't i?"_

_He chuckled, then passed the hold he had on Frisk's soul from his left hand to his right. He could still feel whatever it was wriggling, but it had lessened, as if it was curious to what Sans was planning._

_His eye sockets closed. Several deep, steadying breaths passed in and out of his nose holes. He became statue still again for several seconds._

_"...let's just get to the point."_

_His sockets snapped open. The right was dark. The left was blue. He flicked his left wrist. A relatively tiny Gaster Blaster skull appeared directly above Frisk's soul. He snapped his fingers. The skull's jaws parted wide._

_A thin beam of angry white light struck the turned-blue soul, swiftly and surely followed a preset path around its outer edge._

_Sans could've sworn he heard something screeching._

_The end of the path was met. The beam of light ran out of juice. The skull vanished into thin air. In the hold of Sans' right hand, Frisk's soul remained blue and steady._

_In the hold of his left, whatever had been attached around it was held aloft in the air, limp and lifeless in his grasp._

_With a flourish, Sans tossed whatever it was he had severed from Frisk's soul behind him, with the little effort one would use to carelessly toss a piece of trash into a waste bin. It barely made a sound while it rushed through the air, or when it landed on the floor. It didn't twitch or move at all, but Sans kept it blue a while longer._

_"i'm letting go now," he eventually called back over his shoulder, one socket trained upon what he had just tossed away as he, slowly, released it from his hold. "be a good little whatever-you-are and stay in the time-out corner."_

_It was no longer blue. It was barely visible against the cavern's floor. It remained completely motionless._

_"that takes care of that." Satisfied for the moment, he turned his attentions back onto the child he knelt beside, cautiously returned their soul back into their body. "you still with me in there, frisk?" he asked, leaning forward a bit. "you might even be feeling a little better now, too. now that you've got that weight off your chest."_

_He waited to chuckle only after he could feel the child's shallow breath against his skull._

_"okay. hard part's over. let's see if we can get you more comfortable while we wait this storm out. if i tuck this here. wrap this around here. mind your head. aaaaand there we go. snug as a bug in a rug, or however that saying goes."_

\----

How curious it was that one simple slip-up could revive ghosts of the past.

A lifetime spent in the underground had made many a monster numb to the passage of time. Sans was no different. Standing idly in front of the bathroom sink, staring blankly at the red on his fingertips, he truthfully had no idea how long he'd been like this. Time held no meaning. Reality was irrelevant. Only his thoughts kept him tethered to the physical plane. The memories of the last time this crimson color was on his hands.

The recollections of when he was slowly slipping out of the physical plane altogether.

"...kes that _kid_ so damn special anyway?"

He heard a passing conversation. It roused him from his thoughts, made the ghosts give up the haunt.

"I knew it." The second voice sounded disappointed, and just as muffled as the first on the other side of the bathroom's wall. "You _are_ drunk."

"'s the only way I'm ever able to sit through this damn thing every year." The first's had an unmistakable drunken drawl in it. "An', lemme tell you, it's been gettin' harder and harder to get plastered since this adult's only meetin' became more family-oriented 'cuz of that _kid_."

The second voice groaned. "Here we go again."

"I still don't get what makes that _kid_ so important they throw a damn _party_ for 'em every year!" The first hiccuped. "An' why make a snot-nosed little brat th' ambassador to those monster freaks anyway?! An' no one can't say nothin' bad about the brat, cuz otherwise they'd have a whole slew of those freaks the kid always hangs around gangin' up on 'em! It's an abuse of power is what it is!"

"I'm sure they only do that because they care about the kid." The second's voice was dull and monotonous; it sounded like the argument the two were having was one they've had plenty of times before. "They seem like a pretty close-knit family to me."

"Ha! _Care_ about the kid?!" Something between a snort and a hiccup came from the first voice. "How can we be so sure that the freaks didn't steal the brat from their real family, huh?! That the kid hasn't been Stockholm syndrome-d out the wazoo?!"

"How exactly does one get Stockholm syndrome-d out the wazoo?"

"Hell if I know!! All I'm saying is that is pretty damn suspicioush that the kid jus' shows up outta nowhere, shurrounded by monsters, an' declares themshelves their ambasshador! An' yeh never shee 'em walk two feet out in public without at leasht one of them freaks wif 'em! Don't'cha think it' be, iunno, _healthier_ for a human to be raished by other humans??"

"The kid seems pretty well taken care of."

"Heh. Well, y'know what they shay 'bout wha happemsh b'hind closhed doors."

"..."

"Ehn my honesht opinion, thoshe freaks jusht need'ta go back teh th' hole they all crawled out of-Yeaugh _oof_!"

"And now you've reached the point of drunkenness that you're tripping over nothing while standing still. C'mon. Time to get you a cab."

"An' don't get me schtarted on tha * _hic_ * wannabe shupershtar robot..."

"I won't. Even if you remember any of this in the morning. Which you won't..."

Muffled footsteps grew fainter and fainter. Sans listened patiently as they left his range of hearing. Only then did he return his right hand, which had previously been coated in a burning blue aura, back to his jacket pocket.

_two years,_ he pondered, his sockets aimlessly staring off into empty space. _two years of peace between humans and monsters, and that tired old argument is still making the rounds._

He pondered it a bit more, then his grin became nonchalant. _at least it's only the drunks that're doin' the complaining._

He caught his reflection staring in the mirror, caught it staring down at his chest. His own sockets swiveled back down to the stained-red fabric clinging to his rib cage, then he found himself staring at the now dry ketchup staining the fingertips of his left hand.

Frisk jumped into the forefront of his thoughts, as did the conversation those two unknown voices were having about them. Who were they to talk about Frisk like that, anyway? They didn't know Frisk like he and the others did. They didn't know what levels of hell Frisk had walked through to get everyone to where they were now. And they never would know. No telling what kind of havoc would be wrought if the humans ever found out about time-travel magic and, even worse, tried to control it. There was never going to be another mad rash of resets again. Frisk would never allow it.

_frisk..._

The memory of the last time he saw them barged into is forethoughts like a drunk party crasher. The stiffness of their posture. The paleness of their face. The vacant look in their gaze. The expression he wouldn't grace with a description...

A bitter chuckle wheezed out of his smiling mouth. _now there's an image no amount of alcohol's ever gonna get out of my skull._

He grabbed a few paper towels out of the nearby dispenser, used them to wipe the ketchup off his fingers, then soak up the areas on his shirt that were still wet. He whistled a tuneless tune as he crumpled the soiled sheets into a ball and tossed them into the trash. The tune carried on as he slipped his jacket off, laid it across the sink's edge, then retracted his arms into his shirt. The tune came to a close as he, after doing a little shimmy shake, pushed his arms back out of the sleeves of his T-shirt, which was now on backwards. _no one will be the wiser._

Out of the corner of his socket, he spied something in the mirror's reflection. It was the bathroom's door silently swinging open. He then heard scuffling footsteps, and soon after saw the one making those footsteps appear from behind the door.

"heya, kiddo," he greeted Frisk as the door swung closed behind them. "didn't miss anything out there, did i? it'd be a crime if i missed papyrus' retelling of the great noodle caper. that one's always a gold-mine for puns-whoa watch your step there."

Frisk had bumped into Sans' arm on their way to the sink. They didn't even apologize. That was what made the skeleton get a better gander at the child.

Their steps were uncoordinated and stumbling. The bow tie around their neck had been loosened so much it was almost completely undone. Their sleeves had been pushed up to their elbows, but were slowly slipping back down their arms. Deep, forced breaths passed in and out through their nose. Their face was pale and clammy. Their lips formed a thin, tight line. The look in their eyes suggested that they were distracted by something, something that required every ounce of their willpower.

A would-be brow creased in worry. "you, uh, you doin' okay there, frisk?"

Frisk acted as though they didn't hear him. Coming to a shuddering stop at the sink beside his, a subtly trembling hand gripped the sink's edge so tightly tendons popped out against the skin on the back of their hand, while the other clamped down on the cold water knob, turning it on with a jerk. The liquid poured freely out of the faucet for a few seconds before Frisk cupped their hands beneath the water's flow, gathering as much as they could hold before deftly planting their face against their palms.

Sans watched quietly as they shivered from the sensation. A shuddering gasp was heard as they removed their face from their now empty palms; the water had slipped out between their fingers and trailed down their arms. Their breaths now passed in and out through their mouth, and they placed one hand back under the faucet to decisively splash more cold water onto areas of their neck and near their collarbone.

Sans noticed their free hand blindly searching for something, something to no doubt dry their dripping wet face. Without looking away, the skeleton reached over and grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser and silently slipped it beneath their searching hand. They grasped it tightly and, still breathing heavily, dabbed away the droplets dripping down their nose and chin. They still didn't say a word.

"it's impolite to leave someone hanging when they ask you a question," Sans patiently reminded the child as they dried their face. He leaned a little closer, thinking that would help to make himself heard better. "you doin' okay there, frisk?"

The now damp towel lay sandwiched between the edge of the sink and one of Frisk's hands, both of which were clamped like vice-grips on the white ceramic. Their eyes still had that distracted look in them as they stared, somewhat intensely, at the miniature waterfall flowing out of the sink's faucet. "...I'm fine."

Their voice was paper thin. Their tone did little to convince Sans that their words were true. "you sure about that?"

Their grip subtly tightened around the sink's edge. "I'm fine."

Sans was even less convinced than before. "you don't seem that fine to me."

The corners of their mouth briefly twitched into a grimace. "I'm fine."

Sans' sockets narrowed in suspicion. He then closed them, his smile becoming sneaky. "this wouldn't have anything to do with what's been going on in school, would it?"

Frisk was silent.

"yup. i know all about that, buddy." His tone was carefree and nonchalant as he put his jacket back on. "don't get me wrong, though. i see no problem with sleeping on the job every once in a while. but maybe i'm just saying that because, y'know, _i'm_ the one saying that."

Frisk was silent.

Sans shrugged, and pulled something out of his pocket. "however-" His tone took on a subtle seriousness. "-when you've been doing what you've been doing for as long as you have, and you've been keeping it secret from, not only me, but from everyone for as long as you have..."

His sockets partially opened. They were darker than a moonless night. "then it becomes a problem."

Frisk was silent.

He took a swig out of the bottle in his hand, his eyes fully open and his pupils bright as ever. "hey, you should cheer up, though. i haven't told anyone else. been waiting to see if you would say anything before i did. now i'm not one for snitching but, c'mon, frisk."

His skull turned a fraction. His smile showed pleading expectancy. "don't you think your mother should know you've...been...?"

Sans' smile lessened. It showed concern and worry. "...frisk...?"

Frisk's face was whiter than Naptsablook's. Tendons full of tension popped out against the skin on their hands and neck. Their entire body had become stiller than stone; not even their chest moved, because they weren't even breathing either. Their eyes were wide, pupils dilated, full of dread.

Sans' worry increased. "uh, frisk?" He reached one hand over near their face and snapped twice. They didn't even wince. "okay seriously what's wrong? 'i'm fine' isn't gonna cut it this time."

Frisk said nothing.

Sans was on the verge of panic. "was it something i said? did something happen back out there? c'mon, frisk, give me something!"

Frisk said nothing.

Sans' hands clenched. He remembered the bottle in one of them. It made a theory form in his skull. "is...is this about the ketchup thing?" He looked back to the ketchup bottle in his hand, his smile shaky. "g-guess it was kinda a jerk move of me to be chuggin' this in front of you now, huh? sorry about that. ah, but don't worry about this one. i checked. it's 100% certified, magical, skeleton-friendly-"

He saw it happen in the mirror's reflection. Before he could finish his poor attempt at comfort, Frisk had turned sharply and made a mad dash for one of the bathroom's open stalls. He watched them collapse over a toilet before he heard a retching sound, followed soon after by the sound of something thick and soupy spilling into a bowl half-full of water.

\----

You tried.

You really tried.

But, you suppose, some things are too strong for even determination to control.

Getting sick to your stomach was never an option in your life before the Underground. You would eat each meal like it was your last; you'd never know when you'd next get food in your system, after all. And saving food for later was out of the question, too. You'd always get caught, whether it'd be by crumbs or pests or scents. And punishment always came with getting caught; most times it came in the form of not getting fed for the rest of the week. You'd learned to stomach any food given to you because of this. Maybe that's why you've been able to endure Papyrus' cooking better than the others have.

Getting sick to your stomach was never an option in your life before the Underground. In your life after the Underground, however...you suppose you could allow yourself some leg-room.

It hurts. It hurts a lot. There's so much some of it's coming out of your nose, making it hurt worse. You're barely able to catch your breath before more comes. You're coughing, sputtering, gagging, and sobbing all at once. When a break comes, and you believe it's run its course, more spills out, making you hurt even more.

It's disgusting.

It's messy.

It's painful.

And all you want is for it to be over already.

You're barely able to keep yourself propped up once it finally ends. Your limbs feel like boiled spaghetti noodles. Your nostrils feel like they've inhaled flames. Your head feels both lighter than a balloon and heavier than lead. Your innards feel like they're waging war in your abdomen; a fruitless war that leaves nothing behind but desolation. Your breaths are weak and shuddering. Your vision is doing backstrokes through the Milky Way. You feel dead, and you should know. You've knocked at its door plenty a time already.

_...I'm fine._

You grip your hands around the edges of the toilet seat, using it as support as you force yourself back to your feet.

_I'm fine._

You're still seeing stars, but you make a conscious effort not to turn your gaze back into the bowl as you flush away its sickly contents.

_I'm fine._

You need to get this taste off your tongue, this fire in your nostrils. You begin walking - if one could call your sloppy shuffles 'walking' - toward the sinks.

_I'm fine._

The cold water's still running. You cup your trembling hands beneath its flow, then gingerly pour what you're able to keep in your palms into your mouth.

_I'm fine._

You use your tongue as a ladle to swirl the contents of your mouth around before spitting it all out into the sink. It's actually not really spitting so much as it's opening your mouth and letting it all spill out all at once.

_I'm fine._

There's a small pile of paper towels wedged between the small space between the faucet and the wall. You take one, and wipe away the liquid dripping down your chin. You crumple the paper towel into a ball and place it on the counter-space beside you.

_I'm fine._

You take another paper towel, and blow your nose into it. It relieves some of the burning. You crumple this towel into a ball and place it beside the first.

_I'm fine._

_I'm fine._

_I'm fine._

You repeat the phrase like a sutra, like a spell or a prayer. If you tell yourself it enough, it's sure to come to fruition. You repeat it a few more times, for luck, before you look up and see the sorry state you've fallen into in the mirror.

You don't look as bad as you feel, thankfully. Sure, a little pale and flushed at the same time, but you could look worse. Guess the years of hiding away your emotions behind a mask of neutrality had its benefits. Just a few more touches, and no one will be the wiser.

_I'm fine._

A few moments longer you spend to freshen up, to psyche yourself up, to really sell it. You slow and regulate your breathing. You dab some more water on your face, beneath your eyes, before drying it off with another paper towel. You wet your fingertips before, after flicking off the excess, fixing a few askew hairs atop your head. You make sure the flower remains fixed in your hair beside your left ear. You straighten your bow tie. You smooth out your sleeves. You turn the cold knob, cutting off the water's flow. You take one last glimpse of yourself in the mirror, become satisfied with your appearance, then nearly trip while trying to walk.

_I'm fine,_ you remind yourself as you regain your posture. Being more cautious as you walk now, you gather the used paper towels in one hand and the dry ones in the other. The dry ones you place atop the dispenser for the next bathroom user to partake from. The used ones you dunk into the trash bin. One last uneven breath leaves your mouth.

You hold your head high and exit the bathroom. _I'm fine._

"that was certainly a lot quicker than i expected."

Barely two steps out into the hallway and you come to a stop. The voice came from your right. You'd know that voice anywhere. And the tone in it makes one word pop into your mind: _Busted._

"now, i'm no expert on the human body," Sans continues, sounding as carefree as ever, "but i'm pretty sure vomiting is something it doesn't easily recover from. at least, it doesn't recover as easily as yours' seemed to."

That's right. He was in there when you started spilling your guts. Literally. You didn't even hear him leave. To this day, it remains an enigma how he's able to do what he does, especially when shortcuts are involved.

He will not be easy to convince. Even if he hadn't seen what he's seen.

You make the attempt anyway. "I'm fine."

He sighs quietly. The noise sounds annoyed. "frisk. stop lying to yourself."

You feel your mouth twitch into a brief, pouting frown. "I'm fine," you say firmly, and turn 90 degrees to your left.

"repeating a phrase isn't going to magically make it come true." Hints of bitterness pepper his voice. "life's unfair that way, kiddo."

"I'm. Fine." You start walking forward.

"you look like hell and sound like a broken record." His voice doesn't sound any further away, but you don't hear any footsteps following behind you. "i get that determination is your thing, but you need to understand that being too determined can be toxic. in more ways than one."

"I'm f- _fine_."

Keep moving forward. Keep repeating the spell. Don't look back. Don't stop to think about it. Don't become deterred. Nothing's wrong. You're fine. You're fine. _I'm fine I'm fine I'm-_

He's suddenly in front of you. You almost run smack dab into him. You come to a stop a foot short. Your eyes are level with his collarbone, and stay fixed upon it. _I'mfineI'mfineI'mfineI'mfineI'mfi-_

"frisk...how many times are you gonna make us remind you that you don't need to be afraid to let people know how you're really feeling anymore?"

Your eyes widen. Your thoughts go silent. Slowly, stiffly, you lift your head to finally meet the skeleton's face.

His smile is the first thing you see. Its gentle curve shows patience and a calm reassurance, like his voice did. Then your eyes meet his sockets, his white pupils shining brightly inside his otherwise dark skull. The crease of his would be brows held the same calm reassurance as his smile, but it was in his sockets that you see a pronounced, fearful worry that's meant for no one but you.

Your facade must be frailer than you’ve fooled yourself into believing. You feel it crumble easier than stale pie crust under his worried gaze.

The tiny smile that curves your lips is as shaky as the rest of your body. You lower your head and close your eyes, before the stars that never truly left your vision make you any dizzier. "...Sorry." You reach one hand to cover your eyes. You swear you dried them earlier. "Old habits die hard, y'know."

You hear a sympathetic chuckle. "they sure do."

You try to share in the chuckle. What comes out of your mouth is the dusty wheeze of a chronic smoker. You hold one arm out to your side as you feel yourself start to sway.

Your hand meets the wall, then your shoulder does, then your back. The faux-strength and energy you deceived yourself into thinking you had drains out of you. You slide down the wall so far your backside meets the floor. Your hand falls away from your face and onto your lap. You no longer make an effort, subconscious or otherwise, to convince yourself that you're fine.

Your breaths come out in shuddering whimpers. Your limbs feel like noodles again. Your head feels heavier than lead. The barren wasteland devastated by war your innards have become makes you cringe. As it turns out, trying to ignore the pain only makes it worse when you're no longer blocking it out. You feel your cheeks get wet.

You hear the soft shuffle of Sans' sneakers ghosting over to you. You hear the fabric of his jacket rustle as he mimics your earlier actions. You feel his presence beside you. Something slips between your neck and the wall, and soon you feel his skeletal hand gingerly tilting your head until it's leaning against his shoulder. Despite his bony structure, he really does make for a comfortable pillow.

"...the ketchup thing really was an accident." His voice is small and chastised; you don't hear a smile in it at all. "i'd _never_ purposefully do that to you."

He thinks that his earlier slip up is the reason you got sick. Of course he thinks this. The expression you wore before that you know he saw would've been evidence enough to make anyone think that was why you became nauseous. After all, the dark, unpleasant memories that were triggered into remembrance from seeing red on his chest would've made anyone lose their lunch.

You weakly shake your heavy head, silently saying, 'I know, but you're wrong.' "The ketchup thing had nothing to do with it." You lean more against his shoulder, nestling your cheek into the blue fabric of his hooded jacket. "I've been...feeling queasy since this morning."

"...huh. impressive." His tone certainly sounds impressed, but you detect hints of disappointment in his voice. "and yet you still decided to attend the evening's festivities."

"It's an important night, Sans." Your eyelids partially open; you see less stars than before, but your vision's still wobbly. "Most important night of the year for most humans and monsters. I didn't want to disappoint everyone by not showing up. What's an ambassador's summit without...wait. I already used that one."

It's quiet for a moment. "still." His arm around your shoulders hugs you a little closer. "you should take your health a little more into consideration in the future."

A trembling sigh wheezes out of your mouth. Your head bobs down in a single, obedient nod. It's quiet again, save for the sound of your whimpering breaths. Then, you recall something Sans had said while you were still resisting the urge to throw-up. "...How'd you know about school?"

He doesn't reply for a few seconds. "...i haven't been spying on you if that's what you're suggesting." You can't tell if he's saying this jokingly or not. "i quit that cold turkey a long time ago i'll have you know."

You don't say anything.

"...you remember when papyrus and i visited a few weeks back? because tori had errands to run and she didn't want you to be left home alone?" You nod. "at one point, while you and pap were indulged in the newest issue of junior jumble, i was in the kitchen looking for a snack when the house phone started ringing. now, normally, i'd let the answering machine take care of it; not my phone or house, after all. but then i saw the caller id. saw that it was from your school."

You don't say anything.

"don't ask what compelled me to pick up; perhaps i wanted to be the one to relay whatever message your school was calling about to tori later." You feel him shrug. "anyway, it was your principal. said they wanted to arrange a parent-teacher conference. said they had some _concerns_ about you."

You don't say anything.

"again: don't ask what compelled me to go to that meeting by myself, without breathing a word of it or the phone call to tori." You feel him shrug again. "they had a lot of concerns to get off their chests. they've noticed you not eating during lunch. they've caught you sleeping in class on more than one occasion. apparently, you've been slacking off so much it's affecting your schoolwork, too. affecting it poorly."

You don't say anything.

"they told me they suspected it's because of pressure from all the work you've had to take on from being the monsters' ambassador that's causing your lethargy. they also mentioned something called, what was it...'puberty' i think. whatever that is."

"...The school nurse said it's something all humans go through," you say, recalling the special class everyone in your whole school attended at the same time. "Apparently, it's when a slew of something called 'hormones' rushes through your body, making it grow and change to prepare for adulthood. I don't remember what all happens, but I do remember them mentioning pimples, body hair, growth spurts-"

"oh, we wouldn't want any growth spurts, would we?" You hear his smile and wink combo in his joking voice. "otherwise, that'd make me the shortest in our trio of siblings again."

You laugh, then regret it when it makes your stomach uncomfortably spasm. "It differs from human to human when it starts, but it apparently usually begins in the teen years. But, sometimes, it can come later, or earlier, than that."

"yeah, i think that's what your principal was talking about. that stress from being the ambassador piled on top of stress from school might've brought puberty on early for you. and that puberty could cause even more stress to be piled on top of the rest. sounds like a true delight, doesn't it?"

You don't say anything.

"then suggestions started popping like popcorn kernels for what could be done to help relieve you of some of that stress. of course i was the one that suggested cutting school out of the equation, but you can imagine how well _that_ went over." He lets out a chuckle. "i've never seen grown humans look that appalled before in my life."

You don't say anything.

"in the end, they all suggested that you cut back a bit on your ambassador work, or altogether step down from the job." He pauses for a moment. "...i told them i'd talk it over with you and tori. i haven't yet, as you know. been waiting to see if you'd come clean first. you haven't. you see the problem with that?"

You don't say anything.

"...there's another factor at play here, isn't there?" His tone is calculating, but he still sounds worried about you. "something that ties it all together that you haven't mentioned yet. that you're afraid to mention."

You don't say anything. You feel like your shrinking.

He stays quiet for a second. Then you feel his arm around your shoulders hug you a little closer. "it's okay to talk to someone about things that're bothering you, remember? and, hey, i've been told i'm a good audience."

You don't say anything. Neither does he. He's waiting for you to add to the conversation. You now know you're not going to leave this spot until you do.

You don't mind complying with what he wants.

One hand shakily reaches up to your head, your fingers carefully plucking out the flower nestled in your hair. You hold it in front of your chest, your gaze fixed upon its soft, golden petals that've captured the sun's radiance in their hue. You keep staring, counting each petal one by one until your vision calms, and the entirety of the flower is in complete focus.

"I've been...having nightmares again."

Sans' arm stiffens around you. "about _them_?"

You know which 'them' he's referring to. You shake your head, your gaze remaining on the flower who's stem you idly twirl around between your forefinger and thumb. He doesn't say anything, but you feel his gaze upon you, feel him silently wondering if you're going to tell him what your nightmares have been about. You are. You just need a few more seconds of preparation before you can feel ready enough to tell him. Your gaze remains on the flower, which you've stopped spinning around because it was making you dizzy again.

You breathe deep through your nose, inhaling the flower's faint fragrance as you begin confessing the contents of your nightmares with a single word:

" _Asriel_."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: nightmare scenes are fun =)

_Sunlight never truly reaches the Underground. At right moments in the day, it's able to seep through the barrier and fill King Asgore's garden/throne room and the last corridor where Sans always gave you his judgement with its brightness. But it's an empty brightness. The sun's warmth is never able to breach the barrier, never able to grace the Underground with the aliveness the sun's warmth on one's skin brings._

_Sunlight never truly reaches the Underground. Not even in the one place where there's no barrier for it to filter through._

_You're standing in this place, unable to even see the roof of the cave the hole you fell through long ago resides in it's so dark and far away. Sunlight never reaches here, but it's still here, in the bed of golden flowers thriving in the rich soil directly beneath this hole. Their petals seem to glow in the gloomy atmosphere, fill this small area in the Ruins with sunlight._

_He stands at the very edge of this bed of flowers, which now gives more the vibe of a grave, considering what's about to happen to him. His back is to you, the yellow and green of his shirt melding into the foliage he's standing before. It's like he's become one with them again. But he hasn't yet. For whatever little time he has left, he's holding on to his true form so you won't have to watch him become one of them again._

_You can't leave. You can't leave him here. Grief fills your heart. He won't even look your way anymore._

_"Frisk... Don't you have anything better to do?"_

_The question hangs in the air like the stench of death. It fills you with grief. With regret. With determination. It makes you reach out for him one last time. Give him one last gentle embrace before you go._

_Your arms wrap around his shoulders. You cushion your cheek against his soft white fur. You squeeze him tenderly._

_"I'm so sorry, Asriel." You close your eyes. They feel moist at the edges. "If only I could find a way to help you stay this way..."_

_The sweet, gentle fragrance of the flowers at his feet fill your nose. You'll remember this moment every time you breathe in this sweet fragrance, remember the comforting hug your giving-_

_"_ So why didn't you? _"_

_-yourself._

_Your eyes snap open. The cave is pitch black. The flowers are no longer before you. Asriel is gone._

_Only the musty smell of dust fills your nose._

_A breathless gasp of horror and confusion breaks from your mouth. Dust. He turned to dust. It's all over your clothes. All over your hands. You're breathing it in as you start hyperventilating._

_"_ Why didn't you, Frisk? _"_

_"_ Why didn't you help me? _"_

_"_ Why didn't you save me? _"_

_Your dust-choked breath catches in your throat, irritating it so much you gag on it. That isn't his voice. But it is. But it isn't. You try your hardest to find him, or anything, in this darkness. You find the flower bed._

_Or, should you say, the Flowey bed._

_Every last golden flower now bears Flowey's face. No two faces are identical twins. Some have his thin, black eyes. Some have his teeth-bearing smile. Some have blank eyes. Some have his toothy smile that takes up nearly the entirety of his face. Some have fangs. Some look like skulls with deteriorating flesh melting off of them. Some look like people you recognize. Some look like nothing belonging to this world. One even bears your resemblance. Every face you've ever seen Flowey wear throughout the timelines lays before you._

_All are staring at you._

_All are staring at you in hateful accusation._

_"_ **Why did you leave me here?** _"_

_They all ask this in perfect unison. Then the Floweys start conversing among themselves; a cacophony of chittering and screeching you can barely make heads or tails of. It's so loud you think your ears are going to start bleeding. Their accusatory stares never stray from your face._

_"_ Why'd you abandon me, Frisk? _" "_ Why indeed. _" "_ Was I just not that important enough to save? _" "_ Am I really so forgettable? _" "_ Did you even care at all? _" "_ Liar. _" "_ Filthy filthy liar. _" "_ I thought I was your best friend. _"_

_"I-I..." The air is choked with Asriel's dust. You feel it in your lungs, poisoning you. Your mind is blank from sheer terror. Your every instinct is ordering you to run. You feel one foot slide backwards. "I-_ I _-"_

_Thick vines shoot out of the earth at your feet, vines covered by sharp red thorns that look like fangs. They strike you faster than cobras, wrap tightly around your neck before you can even let out a gasp._

_Your hands instinctively shoot to your throat, work to try to free yourself from the thorny snare. It doesn't work out well. You're barely able to get a solid grip on the brambles, and even when you can, every attempt to loosen your bonds only makes the vines strangle you more tightly. If you were having difficulty breathing before, it's near impossible now._

_"_ **You didn't even try to find a way, did you?** _"_

_The Floweys speak in unison again. Then they chatter among themselves again. You feel your feet leaving the ground; the vines are lifting you up._

_"_ You didn't even try. _" "_ You had the power. _" "_ You could've reseted. _" "_ You could've found a way to keep me alive. _" "_ You didn't. _" "_ You left me here all alone. _" "_ All alone to rot away. _" "_ You even gave up the power that could've saved me. _" "_ You filthy, lying coward. _" "_ You never wanted to save me at all. _"_

_You can't breathe. You can't even think. You're finding it impossible to stay determined. Your vision's faltering._

_Finally, you see him._

_The vines stop lifting you just a foot up from the Flowey patch. Through bulging, watering eyes, you see Asriel directly across from you, suspended mid-air at the other end of the Flowey patch. There's something wrong with him, something wrong with his body. It's limp and ragged; he looks like an old, beat-up stuffed animal that's had all the stuffing sucked out of it. You can't see his face, and not just because your vision's failing. White, blocky artifacts that dance like flames completely surround his head. His head is bent at an odd angle, his neck twisted. He bears the uncanny resemblance to a hanged man._

_Though you can't see his face, with the way his head is angled toward you, you know he's giving you the most unforgiving of accusatory stares out of all his flowering doppelgangers._

_"_ **They could've found a way.** _"_

_You had been feebly flailing your legs ever since your feet left the ground. With this newest accusation, they become as limp and lifeless as Asriel's hanged body. Your eyes widen with realization. You know exactly who the Floweys are talking about._

_"_ They could've done it. _" "_ They could've saved me. _" "_ They could've brought me with everyone to the surface. _" "_ They're my real best friend. _" "_ They're the only one that cares about me. _" "_ You're not them. _" "_ Where are they? _" "_ You killed them. _" "_ You took them away from me. _" "_ You took from me my last chance for salvation. _"_

_The darkness around you feels alive. You can feel it breathing down your constricted neck. It feels like it's their hands that are suffocating you. You can hear the echo of their cruel, sadistic laughter in your ears._

_You try so hard to free yourself from the vines you slice your palms open on their thorns._

_Speaking of vines, your blurry vision can see more rising from the earth on Asriel's side of the Flowey patch. There are six in total, three on each side. They're not nearly as thorny as the ones around your neck, but their tips are thin and sharp, like a wasp's stinger. They glint like metal in what little light is in the cave._

_Then it hits you. They're not stingers. They're knives._

_They're all pointed straight toward you._

_"_ **Give Chara back.** _"_

_They strike before you have the time to even blink. Through both your thighs, through your left bicep, through your belly button, through your stomach, through your right lung. Cutting through you with such force they pierce completely through your body and exit out the other side._

_A strangled gasp, choked of air and gagged with blood, makes the attempt to bypass the thorny vines still suffocating you and ring out into the dusty air. Pain wracks through you. Blood oozes from your wounds, fills up your lungs like a water balloon. You can't move. You can't speak. You start seeing red._

_And blue._

_It's barely visible out of the corner of your eye. You know that color. You know who always wears it. With what little strength you can muster, you fight through the excruciating pain both making you want to black out and keeping you alert and turn your head by centimeters. Turn it towards that little splash of blue standing out against the creeping, breathing darkness surrounding you, laughing at your suffering._

_Once you see his face, you feel your frantically beating heart give a leap of joy._

_"S...S a...s..." Despite the vines, despite the darkness, despite the pain, you shakily reach your one uninjured limb toward your last hope for salvation. "...h... e l p..."_

_The skeleton has his hood up. His hands are stuffed inside his jacket pockets. His front is pointed toward you. His sockets are dark and empty. His mouth is completely closed. You have no idea if he's looking at you, or if he even heard your pitiful plea. But that's why he's here, isn't it? He was already intending on saving you before you called for help, or before you even spotted him. That's why he's here...so why is he hesitating? Why isn't he doing anything to free you from your bonds? From these vines strangling you and pinning you down like a life-sized voodoo doll? Why is he just standing there??_

_Finally, you see a smile appear on his skull. It's small, at first, then grows wider and wider. Stretches ear to non-existent ear before he finally opens his mouth to show off his teeth-wait. No. Those aren't his teeth. They're too big, too long, too sharp. Those aren't teeth at all._

_They're fangs._

_"_ Y o u

a s k e d

f o r

t h i s. _"_

_That's not his voice. That's not his smile. That's not Sans._

_At least, it's not him anymore._

_Something's happening to him. His whole frame is shaking. It's twitching and convulsing. That unnerving, fanged smile is somehow growing bigger. His skull is elongating, molding itself into something else. Something to accommodate the ever growing grin taking up most of his face._

_Something beastly._

_You hear joints snapping, fabric tearing, bone cracking. Bony spikes shoot out of his back, starting at the base of the neck then moving all the way down the spine. His sleeves are bulging, his knees bending. He looks like he's getting bigger, taller. You're starting to recognize the shape his skull is morphing into._

_Skeletal claws rip through his jacket pockets, through his fuzzy house slippers. A long tail rips through the seam of his shorts, swishes this way and that along the floor, stirring up dust. There's no longer any doubt that he's getting bigger; he's already gotten so big he's taking up nearly half the entire space of the cavern. You know you've seen that skull before._

_You always thought those beam-blasting skulls he sic-ed on you in the timeline you two fought each other to the death had a very dragon-ish resemblance to them._

_Now, Sans' appearance gives you undeniable proof that that theory's correct._

_His clothes are in tatters beneath him, his fuzzy house slippers reduced to piles of fluff. Thick claws of white bone dig into the earth. Spikes along the backbone scrape against the unseen walls. The many horned skull continues grinning its wide, wicked grin._

_The skeletal dragon hovers over you, its empty, shadowy sockets hungrily staring at you._

_If you had blinked at all during your viewing of this transformation, the entirety of it would've begun and ended within the span of three long, stupefied blinks. You watched every moment of this mutation. It's forever seared into your memory banks like a brand on a cow's flank._

_You're filled with horror. Even if there weren't any thorny vines still trying to snap your neck like a toothpick, you're too terrified to even let out a scream. All you can do is stare - as blood oozes from the wounds made by the knife-tipped vines that are still skewering you, as it fills your lungs, somehow clogs your throat and drips out of your mouth - at the skeletal beast hovering over you._

_You barely take notice that the Flowey bed has gone completely silent._

_The skeletal dragon's sockets have become filled with burning blue light, at the center of which thin, slitted pupils glare at you._

_You barely take notice that a seventh, final, knife-tipped vine is rising into the air, its deathly tip pointing straight at your heart._

_The beast's mouth opens, so much so the jaw completely unhinges. A light like white fire sparks deep inside the darkened mouth, grows ever larger, aims directly at your immobile body._

_The silence is deafening; you can't even hear or feel your heart pounding anymore. Then, Asriel's voice is in your ear. His real voice; unsullied by corruption and power, full of youth and innocent brightness:_

_"Die."_

\----

"...and I always wake up before I find out what kills me first. The choking, the blood-loss, the last knife-vine...or you."

"...... _yikes._ well, hey, at least no one can say you don't have a vivid imagination. heh heh...heh..."

Your head feels less heavy than before you started recounting your nightmare to Sans. Your vision is less blurry and there are signs of life in the barren war-zone that is your innards. You've been sitting still - with your body leaning against him, your cheek comfortably nestled in the fabric of his jacket near his shoulder, and your legs curled up close to your chest and leaning against the one knee he keeps up and bent - for so long, you fear all the progress you've gained in your recovery so far will be lost when you try to move again.

You don't share in the halfhearted chuckles. You don't say anything as your gaze remains fixed on the flower between your fingers.

"yeah, you're right," he says sheepishly, his skeletal hand gently squeezing the area of your arm where its laying against. "that was in bad taste. sorry."

You don't say anything.

It's quiet for a moment. "if it's any consolation, those blaster things're only for showing naughty murder children a bad time. as far as i know, i can't actually, y'know, _become_ one. and i have no intention on finding out if i can, either, in the future or otherwise. yep. your big bro sans ain't turnin' into any skeleton dragon blaster beast thing any time soon, or any time at all. there's one weight off your shoulders, huh?"

You don't say anything.

"...frisk." His voice softens, becomes more laced with concern. "what is it?"

You know he sees your lips quivering, your gaze becoming more sorrowful. Your shoulders hunch forward. You feel like you're shrinking again.

"Sans...what if he's right?" The flower's golden petals start to tremble. "What if...there _was_ a way I could've helped him?"

He doesn't say anything.

"I know you were there. I know you were still keeping a socket on me when I found him after the barrier broke. Not that I blame you; previous timelines proved I wasn't all that trustworthy." You shrug dismissively, feeling your shoulders bump into the arm that's around you. "He said he couldn't go back; he couldn't break their hearts all over again, because he was going to turn back into Flowey again, and nothing could've changed that. Everyone else went free, but not him. He's still down there, all alone; I can't even find him anymore whenever I try to visit, just so he won't feel so lonely..."

He doesn't say anything.

"It's not fair..." The entire flower's shaking like a leaf in the autumn wind that's not ready to fall from the tree yet. "Everyone else got to have a happy ending, while he's left to suffer all alone in the darkness. But...could there be a possibility that it didn't have to end that way?"

He doesn't say anything.

Your hands shake so much the flower drops from your grasp, lands on your lap. "Could I have done something different? Was there a way to make sure Asriel didn't have to become Flowey again? If I had just tried a little harder...could he be here with us today?"

He doesn't say anything.

"The worst part is...I can't even try to find out if there's a way I could've helped him." Everything beyond your elbows are shuddering. "I can't reset any more. That power came from them, but they're gone now, so I can't...can't even..."

He doesn't say anything.

"A-And, e-even if I c- _could_ reset on my own-" You can hear his bones rattling from how much your arms are shaking. "-I c-can't, I can't d-do that to everyone. I can't s-send them all back underground; not when, wh-when they've a-all been living on the surface for this long. I can't do that to them! B-But I c-can't just leave him down there either! A-A-And on top of that, why'd it take me this long to b-be remorseful about abandoning him like that?!"

"...frisk-"

"Th-That's probably why Chara wanted to get the 'good ending' after getting their own body! They probably could've found a way to bring Asriel back! I-If that's so th-then I...I...!"

You've no idea what else to do with your tremulous hands but stare at them as if blood and dust is covering them as the urge to throw up once again washes over you. "I-I should've let them have their way! I shouldn't've tried to stop them! _I should've let them take my body and devour my soul_ -!"

"whoa whoa _whoa_ hey. _hey_. shhh. shh _shhhh_..."

His arm around you tugs you closer, makes you turn your upper torso so that your face is now pressed against his chest. You feel his other hand around the back of your head, and some part of his skull on the crown of your head. It's most likely his chin. All you can see is the blue of his jacket, which is slowly darkening because of the tears in your eyes.

"don't say that, frisk," he quietly pleads, his thumbs drawing gentle circles on your arm and against your scalp. "don't you _ever_ say that. no one knows what they would've done if you didn't stop them; no one but them. it was for the best that they didn't get their way, remember?"

Seems you've forgotten how good his memory is, and how bad yours can get when guilt and regret become the leading emotions in your mind. His gentle reminder of when you made your peace with Chara calms the shaking in your extremities, if only a little. Same goes for your breathing; you had been starting to hyperventilate, apparently.

He's no longer tracing circles on you, but he keeps you close all the same. "for starters, you probably haven't thought much about him until now because you've been recovering from everything _they_ put you through. you had to take care of yourself; i'm sure he'd understand. that is, if he was- well, you know what i mean."

You don't say anything.

"and it wasn't like i was there the whole time you were talking to him. you were taking a long time; i was getting antsy. just wanted to check up on you; make sure you weren't...y'know. i only caught, like, the last half of everything he told you. pieced together and formed theories about how he became a flower in the first place based on that info. i'd run them by you, but i got the feeling you're not up to a game of 20-Q right now."

You don't say anything. Your face slides down his jacket a small ways.

You hear a deep sigh. "frisk, listen... this won't be easy to hear but, based on what info i got about his situation, i really don't think there was anything you could've done to help him. yes, there may still be a tiny part of him still holding on inside that flower, but for all intents and purposes, asriel's gone. been dead and gone for far longer than you or i have been around. he'd need a whole, intact soul - his own, most likely - if he'd ever have any hope of returning to his true self. and unless you got schematics for a time machine in that cranium of yours, and/or some sort of special power to perfectly duplicate a monster's soul...then you're outta luck."

You don't say anything. You turn your head, uncovering your face a little to give you a little breathing room so you can sniffle.

The hand around the back of your head pulls away. You see it pass by in front of your face. You hear him digging around for something in his jacket pocket, then his hand returns. Except now, it's offering you one of the paper towels from the bathroom. You grasp it in one hand - which isn't as tremulous as before - then take it in both hands to blow your nose and dry your face with it.

You feel him soothingly rubbing your arm as you take care of your face, hear his other hand return to his jacket pocket. "contrary to past evidence, sometimes a bad dream is just that: a bad dream. your subconscious was just trying to guilt trip you into believing there's something you could've done to help him, when the reality is that there's nothing you could've done to help him. you oughta remember what pap told you, and stop beating yourself up over things that're beyond your control."

You don't say anything. The paper towel is crumpled up into a ball and sitting in your lap, near the golden flower your woeful gaze decisively turns to.

He's no longer rubbing your arm, but is instead giving it a reassuring squeeze. "i agree; it's not fair that he had to be left behind. but it'd take nothing less than a miracle to bring him back. some things, no matter how hard you try...you just can't change. sometimes, you gotta learn to accept and be satisfied with what you've got."

"...Is that what you did?"

You feel his hand twitch.

"'Accept and be satisfied with what you've got'." One of your hands delicately pinches the flower's stem between a forefinger and thumb. "Is that what you learned to do?"

He doesn't say anything.

"...I saw it, you know." You idly twirl the flower around between your fingers again; the action doesn't make you dizzy anymore. "During one of the last of the timelines, the one when you implemented the passwords; I saw what's in your basement. Saw that machine, those blueprints...those photos..."

He doesn't say anything.

You stop twirling the flower, but only because you want to. Not because it's making you dizzy again. "You looked happy in them. Like, _genuinely_ happy. I've never seen the other people you're with in those photos; something must've happened to them before I came to the Underground. Something...bad."

He doesn't say anything.

The pointer finger on your free hand lightly strokes one of the flower's velvety soft golden petals. "'I gave up trying to go back a long time ago'; was that what that machine was for? Were you trying to go back and prevent something? To save something? To save them? But it didn't work, did it? And when you couldn't get it to work you...you..."

You stop - both in terms of speaking and petal-stroking - when you realize how deeply, uncomfortably personal this must be for him. "I-I'm so sorry," you stammer as you feel heat rush to your cheeks. "I-I didn't mean to pry- _ah_!"

You don't realize it until now, but his hand on your arm's been gradually tightening its grip. It's only because it's reached the point of pain that you realized how tightly he's squeezing you. Fearfully, you turn your head up to see his expression.

His skull is facing straight ahead. His smile is wide, yet strainfully forced. Beads of what you've always assumed to be sweat coat his skull. His sockets are full of pitch-black emptiness. He's giving off the distinct vibe that he's so lost in thought that he's no longer aware of anything besides what's going on inside his head. And that he's especially unaware that you're staring at him, that you've been talking to him, that he's squeezing your arm so tightly it's cutting off circulation.

"S-Sans?" Fearfully worried, on the verge of panic, you reach the hand that's not going numb up to tug at his jacket. " _Sans_??"

Your voice calling his name makes him flinch, makes his smile falter, makes the light return to his sockets. He blinks twice, supposedly regaining his grip on reality, then slowly turns his skull down and around to meet your gaze. One look at your expression, then a quick glance at your hand on his jacket, then to his hand on your arm, then back to your face. He tries to make the curve of his grin good-natured and comforting. Emphasis on 'tries'.

"h-heya, kiddo," he stammers, his voice bright as he slowly un-flexes his phalanges from around your limb. "ah, sorry i spaced off like that. 's just a thing that happens sometimes, y'know?"

You can't stop the wince that comes when blood starts flowing through your arm properly again. He notices, and you see his would be brows crease in worry. "ah, geez. didn't hurt you, did i?"

"No," you lie. "You just...scared me a little."

He doesn't look convinced. You barely even convinced yourself. A weary sigh leaving your mouth, you break away from his gaze and press your forehead against his rib cage. "I was asking for it," you quietly confess, both your hands folding neatly on your lap. "I shouldn't've brought it up. I never should've been snooping around in there in the first place. I- they- _we_ were...curious."

"thank goodness you're not a cat then. do you have any idea what curiosity does to those guys? lemme tell ya, it ain't... _purr_ -etty."

You know he's just trying to lighten the mood but, honestly, that was bad. Even by _his_ standards. Seems he agrees with you; he doesn't even try to make himself chuckle.

Instead, he blows out a long, deep sigh, and moves his hand up your arm until it's resting comfortably on your shoulder. "...i haven't been down there in ages. been so long it feels like i forgot it even existed. i'm not mad that you went snooping; that's just the price to pay for owning you so gloriously."

"You really don't have to talk about this if you don't want to," you shyly tell him.

It's quiet for a moment, then you hear a small, rueful chuckle from him as he lightly squeezes your shoulder. "i appreciate that, kiddo. but don't get the wrong idea. it's not that it's hard for me to remember those times. it's just that it's hard for me to...remember those times."

The way he phrased this confuses you, makes you turn your head up to get a read of his expression. He's turned his skull away from you again, and though his smile isn't strainfully forced and his sockets aren't pitch black, there's something in the curve of his grin, the way his pupils stare off into empty space, that makes you think he's troubled about something.

You've already decided that you won't push the subject. "Still." You turn your head so that it's only your cheek resting against his shoulder, and reach one hand up to cling to the one he has on your shoulder. "I shouldn't've brought it up. I'm sorry."

You hear him chuckle softly. "yeah, well-" His fingers wrap around yours, and gives them a little squeeze. "-i'm sorry, too."

The two of you stay like this for a spell. Simply sitting here, outside the bathroom that wasn't meant to be the main one used by the summit guests, listening to the sounds and conversations in the main room of the summit hall that faintly reach your ears. They sound less numerous than earlier; maybe there aren't as many people around anymore?

Then you realize. "What time is it?"

You spy Sans pulling his other hand out of his jacket pocket, then holds it up in front of his face like there's a watch on his wrist. "yep. it's two nicks past the ulna."

You roll your eyes and gently head-butt him. He chuckles and returns his hand back to his pocket. "it hasn't been as long as you think it's been, frisk. the night's still young." You see his skull turn toward you. "what do you wanna do about it?"

It doesn't take long at all to decide what you want to do. You still feel like death from puking earlier, so you answer, in pure honesty, "Go home, crawl into bed, and sleep for the rest of forever."

A hearty chuckle makes Sans' whole frame shake with laughter. "sounds like a plan." After giving your fingers one more squeeze, he wriggles his arm out from between you and the wall. "can you get up on your own?"

You feel doubt wash over your features. _Can_ you get up on your own? It wouldn't hurt to try. After gathering the two items in your lap, you straighten your posture and take a deep breath. Sans offers one of his hands for support, so you take it. The firmness of his grasp, a silent vow that he's not gonna let you fall; it fills you with determination.

Unfortunately, that determination makes you get up so quickly, your vision takes another dip in the Milky Way.

"easy," Sans cautions as you sway, his firm grip on your hand becoming the one thing keeping you steady. Eventually, your eyes return from their voyage through the cosmos, so now it's your turn to help Sans up. You're not sure if he's heavier or lighter than he looks, but it doesn't take too much effort to help the skeleton onto his feet. He gives you a grin once you're both upright. "you good?"

You still feel a little shaken, but you give your 'big brother' a thumbs-up.

He nods in a satisfied way, but keeps an arm around your shoulders as you two set off, just in case. "alright, let's go find pap and tori." He produces an action figure from the depths of his jacket pocket. "gotta hand this off to our bro before we hit the highway."

You've long since stopped questioning how Sans is able to do what he does, but that doesn't mean it's any less a marvel to behold whenever he does something unexplainable like this. You eye the figure in his hand (it's definitely not one that Papyrus already has in his collection), then look to what you're still holding in your hand. More specifically, at the golden flower who's stem you keep pinched between your forefinger and thumb. Its sun-colored petals look peckish; the flower's starting to wilt.

"...Okay." You make your grip on the flower firmer. "I'll tell her."

Out of your peripheral vision, you see Sans turn his head toward you. "tell who what now?"

"I'll tell Mom I haven't been feeling well," you explain. "And you can tell her about what you talked about with the principal. But..."

Sans slows his pace, making you slow yours, too. "but what?"

You both slow to a halt. You're still staring at the flower, which is starting to quiver in your grasp. "...She'll be worried enough about me already without her knowing that I've been dreaming about her dead son. So, when you talk to her...don't mention Asriel, okay? Please?"

He doesn't say anything. You're too nervous to see what expression he's wearing. Soon, though, you feel him squeezing your shoulder. "that's fair," he says nonchalantly, making relief wash over your facial features. "and, hey, those dreams might not even be a problem anymore after this. since you now know there's nothing you could've done, maybe your subconscious'll stop guilt-tripping you."

A breathless chuckle wheezes from your mouth. "Yeah." Carefully, you place the flower - which you can no longer look at without being reminded of your nightmares - back into your hair, near the left ear. "Let's hope so."

Together, you and Sans walk off to find the rest of your party. Before you can even tell her you're ready to go home, Toriel immediately notices how much paler you look than earlier in the evening, and suggests getting you home and straight into bed. You make no arguments. Sans presents Papyrus with his new action figure as you say your farewells to Asgore, Undyne, Alphys, Mettaton, and everyone else that's still in attendance to the ambassador's summit. You, Toriel, Sans and Papyrus then pile into Papyrus' car - exact same seating arrangement as before - and the last you remember of tonight is staring up at the countless stars in the night sky above, street lights zooming by, before you fall asleep with your head in Sans' lap.

...And the seed of doubt, which refuses to die, taking root in your heart as you drift off.

_Was_ there something you could've done to save him...?

\----

Two years is a long time in a place where one has no means to tell the passage of time.

Two years is a long time for dust to settle, for cobwebs to blossom, for machinery to rust.

Two years is a long time for snow to melt, for false rain to stop pouring, for lava to cool.

Two years is a long time for a power source to sleep, for an unkempt garden to overgrow, for towns and settlements to remain abandoned.

Two years is a long time for the Underground to be silent, empty, lifeless.

Two years is a long time...but it's just long enough.

Just long enough for invisible, improbable hands to flick switches, turn knobs, press buttons.

Just long enough to make machines, rusted from disuse, whir back to life once more.

Two years...and the Underground will be silent, empty, lifeless no longer.


	5. Chapter 5

_"I cannot take this any longer."_

_He's down on one knee._

_"I just want to see my wife._

_He has one hand on his chest plate, over the gash torn through it._

_"I just want to see my child."_

_His deep, rumbling voice is heavy with guilt._

_"Please... Young one..."_

_His golden-beared face is creased with the years of difficult choices he's had to make during his reign as king._

_"This war has gone on long enough."_

_His head is low, the expression on his face one of resignation._

_"You have the power..."_

_Resignation to accepting oblivion._

_"Take my soul, and leave this cursed place."_

_Again and again, you faced him in battle. Again and again, he stripped you of choice to show mercy. Again and again, you failed to convince him that you shouldn't have to fight. Again and again, you died by his magic. Again and again, you fought back. Again and again, you heard his heartache, his burdens, his regret._

_Again and again, you raised your weapon to deliver the final blow._

_But now, this time, there's hesitance hindering the blade's ascent._

Do it.

It's the only way to progress.

You've done it before; you can do it again.

This is the fate he's chosen.

Kill him.

_The urges are there. So is the motive. He's killed you more times than you can count. He is literally on his knees and begging you to end his life, his anguish, his suffering. He wants this. You've honored his last request every time before._

_But now, this time, for the first time...you salvage the mercy he's stripped from you._

_The knife falls from your hand, clatters noisily to the floor._

_The king flinches at the sound. His eyes, forlorn and weary from his injuries and his guilt, partially open. He fixes his gaze on the cast-aside weapon. It stays there for an impossibly long time. At least, that's what it feels like._

_"...After everything I have done to hurt you..." With the slow effort it would take one to move a heavy weight, his gaze falls upon your face. "You would rather stay down here and suffer..." A mix of confusion and hope makes his face look younger, less burdened by his lament. "Than live happily on the surface?"_

_You stay statue still and just as silent under his gaze for a while, the only sound either of you hear the thriving hum of the barrier keeping the monsters imprisoned underground. Then, the sound of your feet tap-tap-taping across the ground resonates against the barrier's hum as you run up to Asgore, arms wide, and embrace him as best you can._

_"If that's what it takes to stop the fighting-" There's no way your tiny arm-span can reach around his burly, wide girth, but you make the attempt nonetheless. "-then yes. I would."_

_Tired. Truthfully, you're as tired of fighting as Asgore is. It's always apparent in his expression, even if he waits to confess it when he's on the verge of turning to dust. You've watched him turn to dust by your hands time and time again, and it's a sight you've grown so very weary of seeing again and again._

_The two of you are kindred spirits. This war has gone on long enough indeed._

_"Human..."_

_The hope you saw in his expression trickles into his voice._

_"I promise you..."_

It flows stronger, like water leaking through cracks in an unkempt dam.

_"For as long as you remain here..."_

_You hear a tearful smile in his voice._

_"My wife and I will take care of you as best we can."_

_You hear the clang of his armor, and soon after, you feel his enormous palm cupping around the entirety of your back._

_"We can sit in the living room, telling stories..." You can feel his hand gently pushing you closer to him. "Eating butterscotch pie..." You can feel the ends of his beard tickling the top of your head. "We could be like..." You can feel the hope in his voice overflowing, feel it falling and washing over you like rain. "Like a family..."_

_Despite its odd angles, your face rests comfortably against his chest-plate. He's handling you like you're one of the delicate golden flowers in his throne room; he really does live up to all the things you've heard about him throughout your journey. You drink up the hope he pours over you, so much so you can feel some of it leaking from your eyes, making the cool sensation of his armor against your skin that much cooler._

_You're okay with this. You're beyond okay with this. You're perfectly content with the offering he gives you. If this is what it takes to change his fate, your fate, the whole fate of the Underground...you're determined to make sure this lasts-_

This won't change anything.

_A sound like machine-gun fire. A horrified gasp. His fingers tightly gripping the back of your shirt. The cool sensation of his armor being ripped away from you, or rather, you from it. With the last of his strength, he throws you back, as far away from him as he can manage in his weakened state. You land on your rear. You're able to see the horror-struck expression on his face, which is peppered with relief that he was able to push you away._

_Then the circle of 'friendliness pellets' surrounding his body hones in._

_A breathless gasp escapes his mouth as the pellets slice through him like a hot knife through butter. And the last you see of King Asgore - for this time - is the life leaving his eyes._

_Then, his dust scatters across the barrier._

_Again. Again and again. Again and again, you watched him die. Even if it wasn't completely by your hands this time, it's all clear now: No matter what you do, there's no way to spare his life._

_But, maybe, there's still a chance to spare his soul._

_Boss monster souls, for however little a time, are able to survive beyond death. You remember learning this many a time before. It's hovering there in front of you, shedding its pale gray light upon you. Already it's starting to quiver; it'll shatter in seconds if you don't do something. Maybe it really can be different this time. You reach a shaky arm out towards the light-_

_One last pellet, one you hadn't noticed hovering above the soul until now, drops like ripened fruit. The soul splinters the instant the pellet touches it. Its light dies. Its form disintegrates into thin air. The soul is no more._

_"You IDIOT."_

_That voice. That bright, cheery voice dripping with acid-like cruelty masquerading as joy. You know that voice. You know its owner. The first resident of the Underground you encountered. He's here. He's always been here. For this moment, for every moment before, without fail, he's here._

_"You haven't learned a thing."_

_Those thin, coal-black eyes rip your body to pieces with their gaze. That falsely friendly smile drinks up your blood with its curve. Your best friend is here, just as he's always been, sprouting in the wake of Asgore's shattered soul._

_"Hee hee hee."_

_The jars the souls sit dormant in crack. Creeping vines draw the colored light they shed closer to Flowey's main body._

_"In this world..."_

_Your fingertips graze the handle of the knife you found in New Home. You grab and hold tightly to it before the events you know come next begin._

_"I t ' s   K I L L   o r   B E   k i l l e d."_

You'll never change anything.

_Flowey laughs maniacally through a mouth full of fangs. The souls draw closer and closer to his body. Blinding white light fills the antechamber you stand in. Then, swift, void-like darkness robs you of all feeling of time, of space, of reality, of existence, of self. You're nowhere. You're no one. You're nothing._

You can never change anything.

_Though stuck in limbo, though you know the nightmare that comes next, you're filled with determination._

Y e s

I

c a n.

 

\----

"And you've been sure they eat at least one meal of human food a day every time they spend the weekend with you, yes?"

"Yes, Tori. They-"

"Don't."

"...Yes, Toriel. I've made sure to prepare human-made food for them."

"What kinds?"

"Well, if it's for breakfast, they seem to favor my omelettes, even though I'm sure I always miss a few bits of egg shell whenever I prepare them. For lunch, usually it's peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and dinner's usually a hearty soup made with vegetables from the garden."

"Anything else? What about desserts?"

"You know how horrid I am at making desserts."

"Yes, of course. But still, is there anything else?"

"Might I ask why you're questioning me so thoroughly about this, Toriel?"

Asgore was alone in his kitchen. In one hand, he held a phone the size of a brick up to his ear. In the other, he held a spray bottle half full of water, and was using it to gently coat a fine mist on the potted orchid - one of the many potted plants strategically scattered throughout his humble, if not radically enlarged to accommodate for his size, house - seated on the window sill. He had been in the middle of his last round of watering before turning in for the night when Toriel called, began grilling him on the goings-on while Frisk was in his custody.

He heard the faint scratching of a pen across notebook paper momentarily pause when he posed that last question. "I need to know about what kind of diet Frisk is eating when they're not with me," she explained after a moment, the scratching resuming in its previous fervent pace. "They have a doctor's appointment in the morning, and I'll need to be prepared for whatever questions the doctor will ask."

A thoughtful hum vibrated in his throat as he moved on to a ficus. "Could you not have questioned Frisk about this yourself?"

The pen paused again. "Yes. I could have."

"But you haven't. Why is that?"

He heard the pen stop completely. She didn't reply.

His earnest spritzing slowed, nearly stopped completely. "...This call is for more than knowing about Frisk's diet."

It was a statement, not a question. He heard her fidget with her spectacles.

"You're worried about something."

Another not-a-question. He could practically feel her unease seeping through the receiver like steam off a hot plate of food.

"...It's alright, Tori." He placed the spray bottle on the kitchen counter and leaned his back against the counter's smooth edge. "Whatever it is, you can talk to me about it."

The tick-tock, tick-tock of the great grandfather clock reaching through from the hall counted the agonizing seconds that passed after Asgore's last statement. Counting down Toriel's inevitable reply like the timer on a bomb.

He heard her sigh deeply into the receiver, followed by the faint sound of her glasses being removed and clattering on a wooden surface. Asgore wasn't sure why, but he had the gut feeling that, whatever she had to say, he was in for a lengthy and difficult discussion with his ex. Perhaps he ought prepare some tea-

"Do you remember the day Chara came to live with us?"

His eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, shock nearly making him lose his balance. Definitely, this was the last thing he was expecting her to talk about. "...Yes?" His tone was hesitant and unsure, with hints of forlorn reminiscence laced through it.

"To be perfectly candid, I was so surprised when Asriel returned home with them draped across his shoulders," Toriel reminisced, the tiniest of smiles in her voice. "I was even more surprised to find out they had survived such a precariously high fall, with only a minimal amount of injuries. Such a reserved, quiet child; they didn't even look very shocked when they saw our faces for the first time. Maybe it was because they met Asriel first; gave them a general idea of what to expect when he brought them to us."

Asgore said nothing, so Toriel continued, "I'll admit, I had my reservations about welcoming them into our family. The war was still fairly fresh on everyone's minds; what would the populace say if we welcomed a human into our midst? But they were such a young child, guiltless of the actions of their ancestors that trapped us all underground. And Asriel had already become so attached to them within the short time between when they met each other and when he brought them back to the castle; I couldn't say no to that face..."

Asgore remained silent.

"Back then, I really did tend to worry too much, didn't I?" She chuckled thoughtfully. "The people took to Chara like they were one of us. Their presence filled them with hope. It took them some time to get used to life with us, to get used to us in general, now that I think about it. But they made such a swift friendship with Asriel, and Asriel was so happy to have them as their friend. And I'll never forget that sheepish look on their face when they called us 'Mom' and 'Dad' for the first time, like it was an accident. But we never minded, did we? Because at that point, they really had become like...a second child to us..."

Asgore remained silent.

"They were always the picture of health when we knew them. Always running around and exploring the Underground with Asriel; they seemed eager to know more about our race and our history. We kept them well fed, even though it took a little time to grow accustomed to our diet, which surely must've been quite exotic for them. For how little time we had them in our care, they'd grown into such a strong and healthy child, that is until-"

"Toriel." His deep, rumbling voice shook with concern and suspicion. "What are you getting at?"

It wasn't often that the former queen so openly spoke about the past. When she did, she would go off on a tangent, and often times forget the point she would be trying to make until reminded that she was trying to make a point in the first place. Despite the bad blood between the two former royals, the former king was almost always able to get her thoughts back in order with ease. Though, at this point, he was unsure whether he was going to like the point she was trying to make.

He heard a tremulous sigh on the other end of the line, followed closely after by the sound of a chair creaking from a change in position. "Asgore...is it right for a human to be raised by monsters?"

Silence on both ends, save for the tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock of the grandfather clock.

"...It's been two years, Toriel," Asgore finally said, his tone as concerned as it was curious. "Why are you having second thoughts about keeping Frisk in your care now of all times?"

"I don't know." Her tone was biting, but her voice shook with worry. "Maybe it's that they haven't seemed to have grown much since I took them in. Maybe it's that they elected to put off telling me about what's been happening at school for as long as they have. Maybe it's how I've noticed that they've had more difficulty eating human-made food than monster-made food. Maybe it's that they always seem so tired and lethargic lately. Maybe it's the fact that they became sick to the point of vomiting during the ambassador's summit. Maybe it's the fact that, though they try to hide it, I can hear them tossing and turning in their sleep most nights. I wonder if, even now, they are once again having nightmares they aren't telling me about..."

Her voice shook even more with the last statement, so much so that she paused afterwards, so that her voice wouldn't crack. Asgore could hear her take several deep breaths, most likely to calm herself.

"...Call it the worries of an old mother who has lost enough children already." Though he couldn't see them, Asgore knew from the tone in her voice that there were tears in Toriel's eyes. "But, with these recent developments, I cannot help but wonder... Would it be better for Frisk's health and well-being if they were raised by other humans?"

A thick, lengthy silence passed, one that even the march of time recorded by the tick-tock of the grandfather clock could not break.

Despondency rolled over Asgore, made his face fall and his body slump as though a great weight had been placed on his shoulders. In recent times, there had been only one other time he had heard her so shaken and worried, and that was when Frisk hadn't been telling her about the nightmares they'd been having. At least, not until she found what was, as was later revealed, their suicide note.

His despondent expression worsened as old memories of that fateful day resurfaced. The frantic pounding on his front door that winter morning. The grievous heartache on her tear-stained face when opened the door. The vain hope in her voice when she asked if Frisk was with him. How she broke down on his front porch as she revealed the contents of Frisk's note, and how she feared that they had run away. How frantically everyone had searched for the missing child. The abundant relief that exuded from her when they found them. The solemn resolve on her's and Frisk's faces when they burned that note to smoldering ashes, a silent vow that they would never again walk that dark path of no return. How closer everyone all became with one another after that day...

Slowly, as he remembered all the good that came after that day, his despondency gave way to a certain kind of tranquility. Quietly, he walked to the cabinet and pulled out a kettle for tea. He was definitely going to be in for a lengthy discussion with his ex.

"...You have been an exceptional mother to Frisk, Toriel." Asgore's voice was thick with reassurance and sympathy as he filled the kettle with water from the tap. "Even the visually-impaired can see that."

He heard the faint shifting of a change in posture. "I am not saying I doubt my parenting-"

"But you are," Asgore gently argued. "It's natural for any parent to question their parenting skills at some point in their lives. I know I have..."

Silence on Toriel's end.

Asgore turned off the tap and placed the kettle on the stove. "I'm sure the reason Frisk elected not to tell you about what's been happening in their life - feeling unwell during the summit, their school troubles, the tossing and turning you've heard - is because they did not wish for you to worry. I mean, I'm sure they feel like they've made you worry about them enough already, all things considering."

He heard a sigh. "I really do tend to over-worry, don't I?"

He chuckled sympathetically. "You're also worrying because Frisk has reached a point in their life that neither of us have experience in dealing with. We never made it to this point with Asriel or Chara..." Remorse briefly washed over him. But he made sure it went well on its way as he picked out a box of chamomile and began heating the kettle with his fire magic. "You, me, Frisk; we're all breaching new waters here, so to speak. This 'puberty' thing sounds like a strenuous period of their lives for humans to go through. And it can start at such a young age..."

Truthfully, he hadn't thought much about how humans grow and age since long before the war, and even then, he hadn't much use for that knowledge. But, ever since Toriel agreed to joint custody of Frisk, he'd found himself much more interested in how the human body works. He read many a parenting book over time, but the term Toriel had made him aware of soon after the ambassador's summit was one not yet mentioned in the books he read. He'd learned many a thing about puberty since then, and found it to be a very interesting process, compared to how monsters come of age.

"I think...Frisk should step down from being the monsters' ambassador."

He had been digging around for a tea cup when Toriel said this. His search paused, and he arched a brow in curiosity. "What are Frisk's thoughts on this?"

"They told me they'd think about it," Toriel revealed. "But we haven't really spoken more about it since after the summit. And that was nearly a week ago."

"Why do you think they should step down?"

"Truthfully? Because I believe they've enough on their plate already. What with nearly completing their first year of middle school, and the problems they've been having, not to mention they may very well be experiencing puberty early, I just feel that maybe they would be relieved of some stress by stepping down."

He was quiet a moment longer. Then, he started chuckling.

"What?" Toriel sounded incredulous.

"Oh, nothing. It's just..." Another chuckle as he pulled out a teacup the size of a cereal bowl. "I've actually felt as though they should step down, too."

"For how long have you felt this?" she inquired.

"For quite some time, actually. Since last year's summit, I believe."

"And what is your reasoning behind why you think they should step down?"

The kettle started whistling. "Their position as ambassador to the monsters has become more a title than an actual position of power as time's pressed on. Yes, they've helped out tremendously in the beginning with assuring the troubled masses and such other formalities, but it's mostly been you and me behind the scenes organizing everything, helping the monsters adjust to their new lives, etc. Thinking back on it now, I cannot help but wonder just what I was thinking, asking a child as young as Frisk was back then to represent our whole race."

"They've always been mature for their age," Toriel commented. "It makes me wonder just how much they've mentally aged because of all those...'resets'. How many days, weeks, months... _years_ they must've spent looping through all those timelines..."

Both of the former royals fell into silence. After the night they explained the influence they had during their time in the underground, Frisk had never really spoken more about timelines and resets, and it was clear that they didn't want to. That, however, didn't stop the others from speculating about what it must've been like, not only for Frisk, but for themselves, too.

The water in the kettle reached premium temperature. Asgore doused the flames and dug out two tea bags from the box. "Alphys still 'checks-up' on their soul once a month, yes?"

"Of course. We can't be too careful about that, can we?" There was a sneaking suspicion in her voice when she added, "Why do you ask?"

"I was just thinking that, maybe..." His hand rested on the kettle's handle for a spell, a forlorn thoughtfulness in his expression. "Maybe...the time Frisk collectively lived throughout those resets is finally catching up to them. That maybe it could be another cause behind recent developments with their health..."

Asgore was sure the possibility existed, but there was still much he, along with everyone else, didn't understand about the power Frisk had gained when they first came to the Underground. Not Alphys nor Sans nor even Frisk could explain the science behind it, or its exact nature, other than that determination played a major role, and something about 'save points' and 'loading' that were also involved. Most of it went over Asgore's head (an impressive feat, considering how big and tall he was), but he could not deny that it must've taken an enormous toll on those that remembered the previous timelines.

It certainly took a toll on him to know that the dream he had about the talking flower was no dream, but the memory of watching Frisk killing themself to save the world from oblivion.

He heard a shaky exhale on the other end of the line as he poured steaming hot water into his tea cup. "What is it, Tori?" he hesitantly asked as he swirled the tea bags around in the large cup.

Another shaky exhale. "I just...do you remember the dream you had about the talking flower?"

His swirling paused. "...Yes?"

"And how Frisk revealed that it was not a dream, but a memory of a past timeline?"

"...Yes?" His tone grew steadily more hesitant and concerned.

"The truth is, I..." He heard her inhale deeply, like she was steeling herself. "I believe...I've had a similar experience."

Asgore stood as still as a statue, and became just as silent and unresponsive. No wonder it sounded like she needed to brace herself.

"It started quite some time after they revealed the existence of the resets," Toriel continued after several seconds of silence passed on Asgore's end. "On and off again, I had a recurring dream for several weeks."

Asgore remained unresponsive.

"In the dream, I had done what I could only assume I had done throughout every timeline when Frisk asked me how to leave the Ruins. I would tell them I was going to destroy the exit so that they would be safe from the dangers of the rest of the Underground. I would tell them to go back upstairs. They refused. And in the end I...I would make them prove to me that they could handle themself. I would...engage them in battle."

Asgore remained unresponsive.

"My only intention in doing so was to give them a taste of what the world outside the Ruins was like, all in hopes that they would give up on trying to leave. I was trying to keep them safe; I'd never purposefully try to harm them! B-But, in my dream I...I..."

She couldn't finish the statement, but Asgore had a pretty good idea about what she had done.

When she next spoke, her voice sounded muffled, as though she was speaking through her paw. "I-It was an accident. I-I truly didn't mean to... And when I t-tried to revive them, i-in vain hope that I hadn't truly... When I turned them around, held their body in my arms, it wasn't Frisk's face emptily staring up at me. It was Chara's."

Though the tea cup in his hand was radiating warmth, Asgore could not feel colder.

"...Frisk said they remember every time they killed us." Toriel's voice was grave, but hints of tearful remorse were detected in it. "Does that also mean they remember every time _we_ killed _them_?"

Asgore remained unresponsive.

"I-I know we should think of our Chara as a different person than the Chara that possessed Frisk, but I cannot deny that it was once our Chara that was with Frisk throughout every timeline, sharing their body, sharing their pain..."

Asgore remained unresponsive.

"C-Could that have been why Chara made Frisk do such abhorrent deeds? B-Because they remembered us, and felt betrayed when we struck them down?? Could my accident have driven our child to become so cruel?? Make them want to pay us back for the hurt we've inflicted upon them?? Is it because of me that my child became such a callous, hateful killer?!"

The restrained sobs he heard on the other end of the line made him wish he was there by her side. Knowing that he could not give her any physical reassurance, he sank into a chair at his dining table, his shoulders hunched forward as he idly stroked the rim of his tea cup. He stared long and hard at the pillar of steam rising from the cup, and wondered if it was just condensation from the steam clinging to the fur around his eyes instead of tears.

"...Who can say why Chara became that way, Toriel." His voice was heavily burdened with grief, but he tried to make his words comforting. "Remember what Sans said? Death warped the child we once loved and cared for like our own into something without conscience or heart. We may or may not have had an influence over why they did what they did while possessing Frisk, but that is simply something we can never know, for sure. I think not even Frisk knows, either." He took a generous sip of his tea. "Have you spoken about any of this with them?"

He listened as her sobs lessened enough for her to confess, with some degree of horror in her voice, "How could I, Asgore? What if I'm wrong, and I only make them recall painful memories by bringing it up? Or worse yet, what if I'm _right_? I...I don't think I'll be able to live with myself if I am right..."

He lowered his cup back into its saucer with a little 'clink'. "If choosing not to talk with Frisk about these worries is what you want...so be it. But, let me ask you something. Do you think it was easy for Frisk to live with themself, knowing every wrongful thing they've done?"

He heard something like an appalled gasp. "Of course I don't. Don't you remember? They were so overcome by their grief that they-"

"I know it hasn't been easy for me to live with myself, after all the blood I've shed to get us all to where we are today."

The silence on both ends was so great, a pin dropping onto plush carpet would've sounded like cannon fire.

"...You were always the wiser ruler. You were right to berate me for not following a more peaceful course of action to destroy the barrier. You were right to be disgusted with me, to call me a coward, to leave..."

"...Asgore-"

"Not a day goes by that I don't think of those other children. Of how I wrongfully robbed them of their futures so monster kind could have a better one. Their faces still haunt my dreams whenever I sleep. Or, I should say, when I try to sleep."

"Asgore-"

"I've committed heinous crimes to get us all to where we are today. Heinous crimes I'll never be able to live down for the rest of my life. I doubt I'll ever be able to forgive myself. Even if I had the luxury of excusing all my misdeeds on demonic possession-"

" _Asgore_!"

_Crack!_

Asgore blinked in surprise to find that his paw had become wet. Twice more he blinked before he turned his gaze down, only to find the shattered remains of the tea cup he'd been clutching littering his paw and table, the chamomile tea he'd been sipping pooling on the table and dripping off the edge and onto his pants. A shame. Though not one of his favorites, he really liked the cup.

"O-Oh, dear," he mumbled awkwardly as he, just as awkwardly, turned his palm downward so the broken pieces of ceramic in his hand would join the rest on the table's surface. They made a soft clatter. "I apologize. That was horribly phrased."

Silence persisted on both ends. Asgore stared at the growing pool of spilled tea for many tick-tocks of the grandfather clock.

"...None of us are guiltless in our endeavors that lead us to this outcome." Toriel's voice was small, but level, when she next spoke. "I know I certainly am not. Had I stayed in the castle, had I done more to reason with you... But losing our children was still so fresh to me, I was not thinking clearly... I was just so full of grief..."

Asgore was patient as he listened to his ex-wife's voice become smaller, more grievous, his gaze lingering on his expression reflected in the tea. Finally, he stood.

"Grief is as much a driving force as determination is," he began as he walked to the counter and secured a few paper towels in his grasp. "It can cloud judgement, muddle the soundest of reasoning, drive us to make irreversible decisions we can regret for the rest of our lives, lead to only more regret and grief. It is in every living being's nature to make mistakes; it is an unavoidable part of life. No matter our intentions, pure or noble as they seem at the time, mistakes and regrets are bound to happen.

"What's important is that we learn from those mistakes, better ourselves from them, and give it our all to not let ourselves, or others, repeat them. Life is difficult enough as it is; the least we can do for one another is to help each other through it all, and to not be afraid to let our loved ones know how much we'll be there for each other. For all our flaws, we can at least take assurance in that there are flaws in everyone else, too. And that we can all work together to overcome those flaws and better ourselves, and better our future. That's the most we can hope and strive for. That, and to make sure no one has to suffer through life's heartaches alone."

Silence on the other end as he finished mopping up the tea. Then, as he started carefully picking up the broken pieces of ceramic, he heard a surprised chuckle through his phone's ear piece.

"My, my," Toriel breathed. "It has certainly been a long time since I've heard one of your speeches. Very well said, Dreemurr."

The corners of his mouth turned up into a smile as he let out a small laugh. "The thought is much appreciated, Tori, but you should not give me even partial credit for this speech."

Before she could question what he meant, he humbly confessed, "Every word I just said, right down to the letter; I was quoting everything Frisk said to me...right before they told me they forgave me."

A pause. "Frisk...said all of that?" Toriel asked, her tone that of wonder.

"Indeed, they did," Asgore patiently answered.

"When was this?"

"Quite some time after the night the resets were revealed to us. During one of their weekend stays with me. I was...having a particularly bad night. I tried to hide it, so they wouldn't worry. They saw right through me. I didn't even need to allude to what was troubling me; they knew, from a single look, that it was about the children."

"Goodness," Toriel commented. "How perceptive."

"Indeed. It's quite frightening at how perceptive Frisk can be, to be frank. Then they told me everything I just told you, and told me that they not only forgave me for what I intended on doing to them...but also that they forgave me on behalf of the other children."

He heard a sound like something clattering against a hardwood surface. "The...other children?"

Asgore nodded. "On behalf of the other fallen children, Frisk forgave me."

"But...how...why...?"

Asgore shrugged, then remembered that there was no one around to see it. "Maybe it was to ease my conscience. But Frisk sounded so sure of themself when they said the other children understood my actions and, in the end, forgave me for them. Of course I asked how they could be so sure about this, to which they replied, with a wink I might add, 'I have my ways'."

It was quiet for a moment. Then he heard a short exhale that could've been a breathless chuckle. "Amazing."

Asgore smile widened a bit. "Frisk truly is an amazing child, aren't they? And so forgiving, too; at times, it hardly seems fair how quick they are to forgive others for even the simplest of misgivings."

Toriel chuckled this time, though it was still breathless. "It's truly awe-inspiring how they've turned out to be so compassionate, considering all they've been through."

Asgore gathered shattered tea cup and the soiled towels and disposed of them in the trash bin by the back door. "And, Toriel, if you still doubt how much of a positive impact you've had on their life, just flick through the photo albums we've accumulated in these past two years. Compare the Frisk from back then to the Frisk with us now; see how much more open and happy they look as time's marched on. It certainly helps me out."

"Hmm, a smart idea, Asgore," Toriel replied, and he could hear a smile in her voice. "One that I'll consider putting into practice."

Asgore beamed, then reached for his spray bottle. "Also, about their health: I would not put too much worry into that, either. Frisk is growing up, and the troubles they're having are most likely because of the changes that comes with growing up. They'll be back to their regular, happy self in no time, I'm sure."

"Yes." The smile was still in her voice, but her tone shifted, showed doubt. "Let us hope so."

It was quiet as Asgore resumed his nightly plant-watering, then he heard the creaking wood of a change in position on Toriel's end. "I'd better go. I think we might've woken Frisk up."

"You'll tell me how their doctor's appointment went, won't you?" Asgore asked, his tone hopeful yet reserved.

"Yes, I suppose I will," Toriel replied, her tone cordial yet distracted. "Good night, Asgore."

"Good night, Toriel."

He hung up, then the only sounds Asgore heard in his house were the sounds of him breathing, the noise the spray bottle made whenever he squeezed its trigger, and the toll of the grandfather clock striking midnight.

 

\----

Toriel looked at the clock on her phone after hanging up on her ex-husband. It read midnight. Certainly not a time for someone Frisk's age to be awake. But she heard the undeniable sound of their soft footsteps descending the stairs, so she knew it was them even before she looked up to find them lingering near the foot of the stairs.

"My child, you should be in bed," she said patiently as she removed her reading glasses. "You've a doctor's appointment in the morning; you need your rest-"

She was in the process of getting up from the table when she stopped, and became very still. Her eyes widened and her brows furrowed, she turned a confused gaze onto her adopted human child. "Did...did you say something, Frisk?"

Frisk acted as though they didn't hear her. They stood very stiffly at the foot of the stairs, wearing an over-sized T-shirt that used to belong to Sans as their pajamas. Their head hung low, and with the way their hair cascaded down, Toriel was unable to see their face from her current position. Their arms were hunched slightly forward, and their fingers were not uniformly bent. Everything about their posture was very rigid; it did not look comfortable.

Toriel rose more to her feet, her expression wary. "Frisk? Are you alright my chil-"

She froze again, for the exact same reason she froze just moments before.

A strange sound had registered in her ears. It was difficult to place, but if asked to described it, it sounded like what would happen if radio static could be stuffed into a blender and set onto the highest speed setting. Though it lasted only a moment, it was loud, garbled, and it made her eardrums ache uncomfortably.

But, for some reason or another, she had the vaguest feeling that it sounded like...a voice.

And it came from Frisk's general direction.

Her expression turned more wary than before. "Frisk." Keeping her voice level, she rose to full height, all while keeping her eyes locked on the oddly-behaving human across the way. "Are you-"

Another burst of the strange noise made her cringe, made her paws fly to her ears to protect her hearing. This burst lasted longer than the previous two. The theory that it was a voice started expanding. The lights in her kitchen flickered.

Just as suddenly as it started, it stopped. The noise and the flickering lights. Toriel had taken her eyes off of Frisk during the ruckus. She immediately turned them back in the direction of the stairs.

And she did so just in time to see Frisk teeter, then fall forward.

She let out a yelp and raced toward the falling child. Her thigh banged against the corner of the table as she did, but she was able to reach them in time before their head collided into the floor. The sharp pain in her leg made her wince, but she could worry about what bruises may form later. Right now, she had to tend to the limp child who's head she cradled in her hands.

"Frisk?" Doing her best to hide her panic, she knelt down and gathered them up in her arms. "A-Are you alright? Can you hear me?"

"...mmmmmnnnn..."

Their eyes were closed, their face expressionless. They looked to be asleep, but with Toriel's voice loudly urging them to respond, it slowly changed into one showing the irritation that comes with being rudely awoken. Slowly, ever so slowly, their eyelids opened, and through the drowsiness of awakening, their eyes focused enough to see the goat monster's face incredibly close to theirs.

"M...Mom...?" Their tone as confused as it was woozy, they weakly turned their head to survey their surroundings. "Where... Why are we in the living room?"

Toriel, as utterly confused as the child was, put on a brave face (so as not to make them worry any more than they probably were already) and theorized, "Frisk, I...I think you were sleep-walking."

Their gaze focused on nothing in particular, their expression turning intuitive, cautious. "Sleep...walking?"

Toriel nodded. "I heard you coming down the stairs. You stopped at the bottom, and became very still. Then...you fell over. And here we are now." Her expression softened, showed concern. "Do you remember anything?"

She chose to spare them the details involving the strange noise and the flickering lights. They looked spooked enough as it was at the possibility that they had been sleep-walking.

"I..." they hesitantly began, their face scrunched up in thought. "I was...dreaming..."

Toriel felt this was a good start. "About what, my child?"

Their face scrunched up more. Slowly, their right hand reached up to their head, their fingertips parting their bangs, then touching the area of their forehead above their right eye.

"I...I don't remember..." Their scrunched-up face showed a strained grimace. "I...I c-can't..."

"Do not strain yourself, my dear," Toriel said soothingly, her arms tenderly hugging their body closer to hers. "If you cannot remember, then you cannot remember. Do not force yourself to remember."

Seemed they heeded her words. Quietly, their hand dropped from their face, and their facial features smoothed over. They looked very tired.

Toriel sighed inwardly. "Alright, Frisk." She moved to stand up, all while keeping Frisk in her embrace. "Time to return to bed-"

She paused halfway off the ground because of the small hand gripping the front of her dress. "Can...Can I sleep with you tonight, Mom?"

The argument could've been made that Frisk was getting too old for such things. But the fearful tone in their voice, plus the begging look in their eyes, buried the argument before it could even begin. They were scared to be alone; that much was clear to Toriel. But why, she could not be sure. Maybe the sleep-walking? Or maybe it was the dream they could not recall.

Either way, Toriel found herself entirely incapable of denying such an innocent request. "Very well, my child."

They clung to her tightly as she lifted them up in her arms. She made sure to turn off the kitchen light before she and Frisk turned in for the night.

And, though it may have been just her imagination, she could've sworn the lights flickered again before she turned the switch off.


	6. Chapter 6

_Blinding white light fills the antechamber you stand in. Then, swift, void-like darkness robs you of all feeling of time, of space, of reality, of existence, of self. You're nowhere. You're no one. You're nothing._

_But this time, you're not alone._

_His quiet sobs, muffled by the arm he covers his face with yet amplified by the darkness, are the only sounds you hear in this dark and empty place. You don't even feel your pulse marching steadily on in your ears; only the tears he sheds and the wails he weeps._

_"I'm so sorry."_

_Somehow, he manages to speak clearly and concisely through the tears, and through his arm. After making this apology, so heavy-laden with guilt and remorse it feels like it'd outweigh the entirety of Mt. Ebott, he makes an effort to dry his eyes on the back of his sleeve. It takes a moment before his arm pulls away, an area of the green and yellow stripped fabric considerably darker now._

_His head is turned down, and he doesn't immediately turn it up to face you. But when he does, the glistening of the tears he failed in wiping away act like constellations in the night sky that is this dark and empty place. And the woeful smile he bears makes those constellations gleam more profoundly._

_"I always was a crybaby, wasn't I, Chara?" Asriel remarks, once again using that name you heard him address you with before. Then, his smile falters, and he finally meets your gaze before it returns. "...I know. You're not actually Chara, are you?"_

_You feel yourself wince._

_"Chara's been gone for a long time." His gaze shifts downward as he says this, something akin to reminiscence making his voice quake. That sound echoes in this dark and empty place for a spell, then it's quiet as his gaze shifts again. Except now, it shifts in curiosity and slight embarrassment._

_"... Um... what..." With small and humble innocence, Asriel meets your gaze again. "What_ is _your name?"_

_You say nothing._

_He says nothing._

_You say nothing._

_He says nothing._

_You say nothing._

_He says, "Wait."_

_His smile disappears fully this time, and he's staring at you like you've suddenly sprouted a second head. "Are...Are you crying?"_

_You feel yourself wince again. You blink your eyes in what could very well be the first time since finding yourselves in this dark and empty place. It feels like the first time you're using your arm when you reach it up in front of you. Your fingertips brush against your cheek, and when you pull the digits away, you see that they're wet._

_You_ are _crying._

_"U-Um..." Asriel's nervous voice drifts through the darkness and reaches your ears as you fixedly stare at the liquid on your fingertips. "Was it...was it something I said..?"_

_When was the last time you cried? It couldn't've been long ago, but it might've very well been an eternity ago. The sensation feels foreign on you, like ants are marching down your cheeks. Why are you crying at all? All he asked was...was..._

_You can feel the tears run more freely as you realize why they're coming in the first place._

_"I...I'm sorry..." Your weak voice reflects your weakened state - achieved from barely surviving the final attack he rained down upon you when he was at his most powerful just moments ago - as your shoulders heave with suppressed sobs. "I...It's just that..."_

_Your tears fall with rain-like grace from your chin as you turn it up, and give Asriel a grin that shakes as much as your voice does. "You're the first person that's_ ever _asked me what my name is."_

_Surprise is the first emotion you see registering on his face. It's followed closely after by heartache, then sympathy, then bashfulness. That last one is accompanied by a tiny laugh. "Ha ha... All this time, and no one's ever asked you for your name before now?"_

_Your loud sniffles echo across this dark and empty place as you shake your head, your gaze and smile never straying. "Not once."_

_Another tiny laugh comes from him. Then his expression turns sheepish and ashamed. "I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't be laughing. 'Cause that's...that's really sad, isn't it?"_

_You shrug because, honestly, you have no idea anymore._

_He becomes courteously quiet as you pull yourself together, wipe away your tears the same way he did earlier. Your face is far drier than his was when you finally pull your arm away, but your smile remains on it. But, slowly, it melts away, and your face falls into the expression of neutrality it instinctively defaults to whenever you're otherwise unable to express yourself._

_You know you have one. You know there's a specific cluster of letters used to signify who you are as an individual. You know you've heard it before. You know you've seen it before. You know you've written it down once before, specifically for the reason that you'd never forget it, because others around you had failed to call you by it before. So, the question remains:_

_What_ is _your name?_

_"...Frisk."_

_"...'Frisk'?"_

_Your gaze meets his again, and you can feel the corners of your mouth twitch briefly upward in a smile as you give Asriel a firm, determined nod. "My name...is Frisk."_

_"Frisk." Hearing yourself speak your name felt dreamlike and unreal as it was. But to hear someone else say it, to hear his voice say it, you've the mighty need to pinch yourself._

_You see his smile grow wider. It makes yours grow wider, too. "That's... A nice naaaaaa **aaaa͖͉̙͔̮͎̻a̯̱͈͎a̛̹͙̥̪̭̙aá̰a̹a̪̦̺̻̪̩̟͘a̙̦̲͎͝a̝̺͎ͅa̲̩͍̯̬̫à̰̤a̸̻̣̞̗aá͈̩̘̦͈a͉à̰aa̖͘a̝**_

 

**_\--i---_ **

**_\--n_ **

**_-o-_ **

**_h---_ **

**_-e-_ **

**_\--n_ **

**_-o-_ **

**_h---_ **

**_m-_ **

**_-o----_ **

**_I-_ **

**_-o-_ **

**_\--n-_ **

**_-h--e--_ **

**_\---e--i--_ **

**_-o-_ **

**_\--s-_ **

**_k----_ **

**_Y---r-_ **

"YO! FRISK! WAKE UP!"

 

 

 

\----

The sudden rush of vertigo makes you catch yourself before you completely fall forward, before you face plant into the ground. An unflattering snort bursts out of your nose as you catch yourself, and your eyes widen greatly, seeing nothing but dirt, which is dangerously close to your face.

"Yo," the voice coming from up and to your right says, the tone nervous yet excited at the same time. "That's, like, the fifth time this week, Frisk! And it's only Wednesday! You're starting to be just as bad at staying awake as Sans!"

Wednesday. That's right. It's Wednesday. It's Wednesday, and you're at school. It's Wednesday, and you're in the school yard.

It's getting warmer and warmer these days, but of course it is. Summer is fast approaching. But it's not here yet, so the afternoon air is pleasantly temperate, even more so considering you're sitting beneath the shady canopy of a big elm tree in the middle of the school yard, with your lunch box open and sitting atop your criss-crossed legs. It's not often that your teacher allows everyone to eat lunch outside. So it's quite a shame that you've spent this long of this outdoor lunch time snoozing.

As soon as your senses refocus on the world around you, you straighten your posture and give the monster kid sitting beside you a smirk. "Oh, trust me. I'm nowhere near as bad as Sans is. He could sleep his way through an earthquake and then some."

Kid laughs in agreement, then their gaze focuses on your face. More specifically, your mouth. "Yo, dude, you're leaking!"

Your facial features twitch in confusion, then you rub the back of your hand against your mouth. A line of drool connects the corner of your lips and the back of your hand when you pull the extremity away. "Well...that's embarrassing."

Kid laughs again, so much so their lunch box (which is settled atop their bent knees) nearly spills its contents onto the ground. "Dude, you're totally like Sans! And that's not even going into how many times a day you bust out the bad jokes!"

You roll your eyes and silently wipe your hand off on your shorts.

"...yo. Really? Nothing?" They look at you like you just insulted their idol. "No quips? No comebacks? Not even a single pun? Seriously, dude, what is _up_ with you lately??"

You try to hold back a yawn, but fail spectacularly. It comes out so big and long, your jaw opens wide and your eyes water. You cover your mouth with the back of your hand and lean your back against the elm tree's trunk, and when you're finished, you turn your gaze upward and confess, "Long story short: being a human sucks."

The doctor's appointment Toriel took you to a few weeks ago was enlightening, if not confirming of suspicions already harbored. The doctor deemed all the health troubles you've been having recently - your lethargy, your difficulty stomaching human food, even that one instance of sleep-walking the night before the appointment - to be products of puberty brought on early. Most of the medical jargon the doctor told Toriel about went over your head (an unimpressive feat, considering how small and short you are), and the only bits that really mattered to you were the changes you were told you would have to make so things would be easier for you.

The biggest one in particular, that you're not all that happy about either, was that you'd have to be weaned off of magical food.

"'S tha' why you keep ea'in' all tha' stuff?" Kid asks, their mouth half-full of chewed-up Crab Apple.

You look down at the open lunch box in your lap, study its contents with a weary eye. A turkey sandwich, complete with lettuce and tomato and cut diagonally in half, is sealed within a small plastic bag, and takes up most of the box's volume. Also residing in the box is a ripe green pear, a pouch of fruit juice, and a cup of vanilla pudding. "Yep," you say nonchalantly as you pick out the pouch of juice, unwrap the straw that's attached to it, and stab it into its top. "Gotta get my 'nutritional intake' and all that."

Kid swallows the chewed-up Crab Apple as you sip away. "Yo, not that there's anything wrong with human food, but it sucks that your mom-I mean Ms. Toriel, won't even let you share my Bisicle!"

"Yeah," you remark, vaguely recalling the topic of conversation you were having with Kid before you nodded off as you nibble at the pear. "I repeat: being a human sucks."

You've never been much of a picky eater, but as mentioned before, you've had more and more difficulty eating human food as of late. It just doesn't sit right in your stomach any more. Maybe you've just gotten so used to magical food being instantly absorbed into your system that your body's forgotten what it's like to properly intake and digest non-magical food. At least, you think that's what the doctor was talking about; they seemed very inexperienced talking about the properties magical food had on the human body.

The two of you eat in silence for a while, with Kid's consumption of their meal far more enthusiastic than yours, until Kid says, "Dude, if only you could become a monster! I'm sure that'd suck even less than being a human!"

You've barely whittled the pear down to a third of its original size when you stop, and arch a brow in intrigue. "Oh?"

"Yeah! 'Cuz, like, remember that whole puberty class thing a few weeks ago?" You nod. "That sounds like it'll really blow when it happens! All that really happens when a monster comes of age is that our magic starts coming in, and that we have to learn how to control it! Yo, I'd rather have to do that than have all those 'hormones' or whatever changing things up! Wouldn't you, too, Frisk?"

"Hmm," you mutter mindlessly, and just as mindlessly pick at your sandwich.

"And, y'know, I wonder what you'd look like if you were a monster!" Kid goes on to say. "I'd bet you'd look really cool! Maybe like Ms. Toriel and Mr. Dreemurr! Or maybe like Undyne! What do you think you'd look like?"

"Haven't really thought about it before..." you murmur thoughtlessly, and just as thoughtlessly set your juice pouch down.

"Dude! Let's do that! Let's imagine what you'd look like if you were a monster!"

"..."

"We have art next, so we can spend all that period thinking it up and drawing it- Yo! Are you asleep again!? Man, maybe you'd look like ..n. ... .a...u.

...

 

 

 

\----

_"Yo!"_

_The dark abyss below the rickety old bridge in Waterfall echoed the monster child's cry, made the human child already three-quarters of the way across stop dead in their tracks. With stiff, almost robotic movement, the human turned, faced the opposite end of the bridge they just crossed, faced the young, reptilian monster shakily approaching them._

_"Yo." The monster stopped mere feet away from the human, their expression wary yet attempting bravery. "Undyne told me to stay away from you. She said you... You hurt a lot of people."_

_The human said nothing, and only continued staring ahead with an expression of emotionless neutrality._

_"..." The monster gulped heavily, felt their heart beating wildly inside their chest. "But, yo, that's not true, right!?"_

_The human said nothing, but this time, their body turned 90 degrees to the right._

_The monster's nervousness doubled. "... yo... Why won't you answer me?"_

_The human said nothing._

_"A... a... and what's with that weird expression...?"_

_The human said nothing. But, this time..._

_Dusty powder was shaken loose from the human's brown hair, flung into the air as the human sharply turned and, with shambling footsteps, began closing the distance between the two youths._

_The monster scrambled backwards, doing their best not to trip (as they were so often prone to do) and to keep the distance from the oddly behaving, fright-inducing person encroaching upon them. "Oh... Oh man..."_

_The monster had never felt more terrified in their life. They felt as though their heart was pounding right out of their chest. They asked themself what their idol, Undyne, would do. Soon, they came to a conclusion._

_"Yo..." Though their knees knocked together, though it was clear they were terrified, a brave, determined face was worn by the young monster as they stopped backing away and held their ground. "Y-You'd b-better st-stop r-right where you are... Cause if you w-wanna hurt anyone else... you're..."_

_With great effort, the young monster stopped their shaking, stood as tall as they could, and threatened, "You're gonna have to get through me, first. A... and... and..."_

_The monster's bravado was short-lived. Comically short-lived. The facade of bravery and determination they wore melted faster than a snowball in Hotland, gave way to the unspeakable terror hiding beneath._

_A toy knife was produced from behind the human's back. Not the most powerful or effective weapon, but one that felt familiar in the child's hand. It was raised high into the air, poised like a reaper's scythe. And the one to be reaped: the anxiously quivering young monster who foolishly thought they would amount to anything more than free EXP._

_The expression the human wore that the monster mentioned earlier - one full of annoyance, of impatience, of blood lust - intensified. A wide, wide grin stretched across the human's face, its curve unnaturally wicked and feral. A thick darkness, one thicker and deeper than the abysmal chasm below, seemed to take physical presence as the human finally hissed out the answer the monster was previously demanding:_

_"In_

_my_

_wwwwwwwwaaaaaaaaaaaaa **aaaaaaaaͅa̲̻̥̠̥͉͈a̺̞̝͚̬͙͍a̹̝̥͟a͚̳̼a̞͞a͎̰͚͓̯̯̫y̧y̝͙̘y̧̺̫̮̱y̙y͍̝y͕͓y̜y͍̱͟y̩̦͉̱̱̮̣y͖̪̰͍̱̱y̼̣̟̤**_

 

**_\--i--- --n -o- h--- -e-_ **

**_\--n -o- h--- m- -o----_ **

**_I- -o- --n- -h--e-- ---e--i-- -o- --s- k----_ **

**_Y---r-_ **

"What's going on here?!"

 

 

 

\----

Your eyes snap open at the sound of your teacher's yelling voice. Even with your eyes open, all you see is darkness, and it takes you longer than you care to admit to realize why this is.

It's because you're lying face down on the ground.

You feel the vibrations of many a foot against the earth coming towards you as you test out your extremities. For some reason, you feel very drained and weak, like you just finished running a marathon without preparing extensively for it beforehand. The footsteps come closer. You turn your head to the side, and see that a sizable crowd of your classmates has gathered around where you're lying.

"What happened here?!" You hear your teacher's voice again, much closer this time. "Did anyone see what happened?? C'mon, spit it out if you do!"

You hear hesitant murmurs ripple through the group gathered around you. With utmost caution you press your palms against the dirt to support yourself as you raise your head, try to get a better idea about what's going on around you.

The first thing you see is your teacher, who's kneeling beside one of your classmates. This particular classmate has made it a point to harass and bully you on many an occasion ever since he transferred to your school last semester. Not that any of his jeers and provocations bothered you; you've experienced far worse than being called a few names, most of which weren't clever in the slightest.

But, with the way he's staring at you now, it's like you were the one doing the name-calling, and you had just used the king of all mean names to address him.

"...Frisk." You don't realize your teacher's been talking - mostly trying to comfort your classmate, who looks like he's shaking head to foot - until she addresses you, a stern look on her face. "Mind telling me what just happened between you two?"

Something...happened?

"Y-Yeah, dude-" Kid's legs stumble into view, and you can see that their knees are knocking against each other. "-wh-what was that just now??"

Just now? Just now?? Why is everyone acting so weird??? All you were doing was having lunch with Kid, then you just, sorta, closed your eyes for a moment, and then you were suddenly face-planting the dirt. Why is everyone-

Wait.

No.

There was more.

But there wasn't.

You had closed your eyes and then...then...

"I..." An area on your forehead feels weird. You touch your fingertips to it, and they form a small, vertical line extending from your forehead to just above your right eye. "I don't...know..."

You turn your head up more, give your teacher the lost, helpless expression forming on your face. "I...honestly don't know what happened, ma'am..."

Her expression turns from one of sternness to one of concern, then to frightful alarm.

"Y-Yo, d-dude..." You see Kid's face, see that they're staring at yours with the same frightful alarm that's on your teacher's face. "Y-You're leaking..."

You blink in surprise. Again? But, you don't feel any drool dribbling out the corner of your mouth. Feeling your lost helplessness increasing, you reach a starting-to-shake hand to your face-

Your index finger grazes the area between your nose and upper lip. You instantly feel the skin become wet. You feel your muscles stiffen at the sensation.

And it's not until you pull back and look at your finger, see the thick liquid crimson staining your skin, that you realize it's not drool you're leaking.

 

 

 

\----

With Toriel away for the day with her class on a field trip, Asgore was the next in line in the relatively long list of contacts the school had whenever there was an issue with Frisk. He arrived within seven minutes after receiving the call that Frisk needed to be picked up from school early (the school was fairly close to Asgore's house). When he arrived, he arrived to find the human child on one of the beds in the nurse's office, with a bloody nose, a slight fever, and a dazed look in their eyes. When asked what happened, Frisk remained gravely quiet, so the recounting of events that led up to the need for Frisk to leave school early was done by the sprightly monster youth that had, apparently, seen everything.

"Okay, okay, so, me and Frisk were eating lunch beneath that big tree in the schoolyard when Frisk decided to catch a few 'z's. And I was like, 'Dude, seriously?' And then Joey here-" Kid jerked their head in the direction of a human boy sitting on another of the office's beds that was just as silent as Frisk, though he looked rather spooked about something. "-came over and was like, 'Gimme your pudding, punk.' And I was like, 'Yo, back off, dude.' But Frisk was sound asleep and all that, right? So Joey was all like 'Can't let a good pudding cup go to waste.' and just snatches it right out of Frisk's lunchbox! And then I called him a turd, and then he looked like he was gonna sock me, and then...then..."

Kid had been eagerly bouncing up and down in their seat until this point in explaining what had happened. When this point had been reached, Kid's bouncing became less enthusiastic, then stopped altogether. Their expression had also turned wary, almost fearful. "Then...there was this weird, static-y noise. I was like, 'Yo, someone leave a radio on or something?' Then Frisk, just, stands up like they weren't sleeping at all. They held out their hand, like they were expecting Joey to give them back their pudding. Joey stared at them like they'd grown a second head. And...then..."

Kid's expression had turned more wary. "M-More of that weird static. It...It made my head hurt. Then Joey screamed, stumbled back and landed flat on his butt. He looked like he was going to pee himself, honestly. Then Frisk, just, face-plants. That's when everyone started crowding us until Teach came over and broke everything up."

Kid swore that was all that happened. Asgore took some comfort in the fact that no one resorted to violence when all of this happened. It was deemed that Frisk's nose bleed came from their graceless fall, but their fever could not be ignored. To prevent the spread of illness, they had to leave school for the rest of the day, not to come back until their fever broke. Of course, Asgore understood this, and as Frisk gathered their things (and Kid promised to bring them any homework later), he received urges from the nurse, teacher, and principal. Urges to seriously consider doing more to better the child's well-being, both in terms of physical and mental health.

Asgore gave his word. With their things gathered and packed, Frisk wrapped their hand around Asgore's thumb - and even then their fingertips didn't meet - and the pair made to leave. Before they even left the nurse's office, Frisk pulled away and did one more peculiar thing that day.

They had walked up to the boy on the other bed, met his gaze, and quietly pressed a pudding cup into his hands. "You'll enjoy this more than I will," was all they said, their tone apologetic, before returning their hand to Asgore's, then leaving without another word. They didn't even see that Joey's eyes welled with tears.

There was a reason Asgore found this to be peculiar: When did Frisk get their pudding cup back?

Things were quiet between monster and human as they walked through the halls, across the parking lot, and down the street leading to the former king's place of residence. The rustling of leaves in the wind, the tweeting of songbirds, and the occasional car speeding by were the only sounds that passed the time during the stroll back to Asgore's house. The former king walked slowly, and even then Frisk struggled to keep up with his strides, so much so that Asgore eventually stopped to scoop Frisk up and place them atop one thick, broad shoulder before setting off again.

"Do you really not remember any of what took place?" Asgore eventually asked, if only because he could not take any more of the silence.

With Frisk's upper half leaning against the side of his head, he could feel them slowly shake their head. "It was like Kid said," they quietly confessed. "I closed my eyes, I must've fallen asleep, and the next thing I knew...I'm breathing in dirt."

A thoughtful 'hmm' rumbled in Asgore's throat as he, just as thoughtfully, stroked at his beard with the hand that wasn't keeping Frisk secure atop his shoulder. "Do you think, possibly, you were sleep-walking again?"

He peaked out of the corner of his eye in time to see them give a halfhearted, one shoulder shrug. "Maybe. This'd be the first time since that night if I was. But..."

He slowed his strides, and turned his head to more fully face the child. "What is it?"

The look in their eyes was intuitive, worried. "This is the first I've heard about...static."

A deep frown appeared on the goat monster's face. "This is the first I’ve heard about static as well."

He knew of the sleep-walking from Toriel, from the report of Frisk's doctor's visit he humbly requested she give him. There was a certain wariness about her when she spoke of it; she almost looked frightened. He hadn't pressed the manner, but was it possible that there was more to the first sleep-walking incident than she had lead on? That she, too, had heard static?

He was already going to report this incident to her later. But now, he knew an exchanging of words about the static was definitely in store.

The pair arrived at Asgore's front door, which was framed on either side by tall shrubbery that had been shaped and molded into sculptures so grand they would make any botanist shed tears of joy. After crossing the threshold, Asgore walked to a very plush couch in the den and placed Frisk upon it. "Are you hungry?" he asked casually. "You did not eat much of your lunch back at school, did you? You can finish that off, or I could make you something fresher, if you'd like."

"No, thank you," Frisk politely declined. "I'm not really hungry right now."

Asgore wasn't very convinced. "At least allow me to brew you some tea." Before Frisk could really think about this offer, Asgore remembered something. "Ah, but first, maybe we should see how this nose bleed is doing, hmm?"

Frisk was unresponsive for a moment, then gave Asgore a small, agreeing nod. As the tall monster knelt down on the floor in front of where the child sat on the couch, Frisk carefully removed the twisted-up bits of tissue paper that had been wedged in their nostrils when they were taken to the nurse's office. The tips were now stiff with dried blood and mucus, but Asgore still placed two fingertips beneath Frisk's chin and tilted their head up, to make sure the bleeding really had stopped.

"Did it hurt any?" he asked as he inspected the child's nostrils. "Or, I should say, does it hurt anymore?"

"You get numb to certain pains after a while," Frisk commented with a shrug.

Asgore's muscles went stiff.

It took a moment, but Frisk realized what they had just said. Guilt flashed across their features as they looked away, pulled their head back and off of Asgore's fingertips.

The grandfather clock in the hall struck one o'clock.

Despondency rolled over Asgore. His head and arm lowered, his gaze emptily falling on the floral pattern stitched into the cushions of the couch he knelt before as his arm rested on the knee he kept propped up. "...Frisk. Might I inquire something?"

No answer. Asgore took it as a sign to continue.

"I fear I may already know the answer to this, but I must know, for sure..." He took a deep breath, steeled himself. "If you remember every time we were felled by your hands...does that also mean you remember every time you were felled by ours?"

It was the way Frisk had made their last statement - such a small, hollow tone their voice had taken on - that made him ask this. Truthfully, when Toriel had posed this question to him a few weeks back, it did not stop eating away at him for many a sleepless night. He knew Toriel hadn't the heart to ask Frisk about this herself. So if she wouldn't, he would, even though a part of him knew he already knew what Frisk was going to say.

The only thing was, Frisk wasn't talking at all.

The tick-tock, tick-tock of the grandfather clock grew tortuous. Frisk was still unresponsive. With the feeling as though there were weights around his neck, Asgore turned his head back up...and immediately wished he hadn't.

Their knees were bent, feet curled up beneath the seat of their shorts. Their arms tightly hugged around their rib cage. Their back rested so much against the back of the couch it looked like they were sinking into the plush cushions. Their head was turned to the side. The skin on their face had gone somewhat pale. Their mouth was kept in a tight, rigid line. Their eyes stared blankly off to the side, in a way that it looked like they were holding back tears. But it was the look in their eyes - a look so tired and weathered and war-weary it'd look more natural on a war veteran like himself or Gerson - that sealed the deal.

As heartbreaking as it was, he had known the answer all along.

Now, the weight felt like it was in his chest. With utmost care, he raised his hands and encircled them around the human child. It was ridiculously easy for him to completely enfold his palms around their tiny frame and completely lift them up. As if they were as fragile as glass, he cradled Frisk like a newborn in his arms, his head bent low over them and his breaths small and shuddering.

"I am sorry," he whispered, for more reasons than one. "I should not have asked."

"It's okay." Frisk's voice was muffled by the fact that their face was against his chest, but one could not deny it still held that small, hollow tone in it as before. "Everyone had their reasons. And all of them, justified."

The former king so badly wanted to argue that nothing justified murdering an innocent child, but there was nothing to say.

Well, almost nothing. "Please...stop saying 'it's okay' when it clearly is not."

Frisk didn't reply.

"You've been so brave, Frisk." Tighter he embraced the child, yet he was so very careful not to crush them in his strong embrace. "I cannot even begin to imagine the kinds of horrors you must have experienced throughout the timelines. And you braved through every single one of them all alone, while we did nothing but create and add to those horrors..."

Frisk didn't reply.

"It really is quite unfair how quick you are to forgive others; both for the ones you are forgiving, and for yourself. Even if it is for a brief time, you can allow yourself to not be okay with everything that has happened to you, that we have put you through. I hope you understand this, Frisk, because it truly kills us to see you suffering so silentl-"

The thought petered out like embers turning to ash. He needn't elaborate on it anymore, because it was clear that the message rang true once he felt the child's tiny hands cling to the front of his shirt, and once he felt a single, sniffly sob make the child's chest heave.

There was no more need for words. Gingerly, Asgore cupped one large palm around Frisk's head, stroked their hair lightly with his thumb as the child continued to moisten the front of his shirt. The pair stayed this way for several tick-tocks of the grandfather clock before Frisk pulled away, if only to rub their nose against the back of their hand. Their eyes still held that tired, weathered, war-weary look as before, but at least they regained some color in their face, looked a bit more their actual age.

"...I think I'd like some tea," they quietly fessed up, their voice shy and humble.

Asgore's mouth twitched into a smile. "I'll prepare some then."

The former king kept the child comfortably cradled in one arm as he rose to his feet and made for the kitchen. He passed his dining table along the way, on which was littered a whole mess of documents and forms he had been sorting through before the call came that Frisk needed to be fetched. He paused there, his gaze fixed upon those legal papers, for a long enough time for him to come to a conclusion.

Toriel was right. Frisk had enough on their plate already without having to represent an entire race.

"While we enjoy our tea," he stated as he resumed his long stride to the kitchen, "I think it would be wise if we discussed the terms of your ambassadorship. And, perhaps, your termination from the position."

"...Yeah." Frisk's tone was more weary than before, a tone one held when fighting the urge to sleep. "I think so, too."

 

 

 

\----

"I just heard the news! It can't be true, can it?!"

Alphys was alone in her lab, already packing up and ready to go home for the day, when her cell phone started ringing. She struggled for a bit to answer it - her arms were full of papers and equipment - and she barely pressed the answer button and held the device up to her ear before Mettaton's loud voice burst through the ear piece.

She was startled so badly that she nearly dropped what was in her arms. "Wh-What news are we talking about here, Mettaton?" she asked as soon as her ears stopped ringing.

"About Frisk!" It wasn't often that Mettaton raised his voice in alarm or worry, but when he did, it was like he had no concept of what was considered deafening or not. "Is my darling angel really stepping down from being the monsters' ambassador?!?"

"Oh." A sheepish expression crossed the scientist's face. "Y-You saw the press conference."

"Oh _yes_ I saw the press conference!" Mettaton snapped, his tone biting and hurt. "How could I have been the last one to know about this?!"

Alphys sighed wearily and set the phone down on a desk, pressed the 'speaker phone' option before resuming her packing. "We w-wanted to tell you before. Frisk especially. B-But you've been so busy with your tour, a-and we couldn't get a hold of you. Frisk said they felt really bad that y-you'd have to find out like this..."

It was quiet for a moment, then Alphys heard a long, dramatic sigh. "I really ought to do better to keep you all updated on my schedule, oughtn't I?"

Alphys meekly chuckled in sympathy.

"Is it true, though?" Mettaton went on to helplessly ask. "Frisk is really stepping down? Not just taking a break for their summer road trip?"

"Everything you heard from that press conference is true, Mettaton," Alphys confirmed. "Frisk is p-permanently stepping down from being our ambassador, and Asgore's taking their place."

She heard another long, dramatic sigh. "I have a feeling that there's more of a reason behind why Frisk is stepping down other than that they believe Asgore's better suited for the position. Is there?"

"Uh-huh. Toriel said that th-they've been under a lot of stress and pressure lately. Th-the 'strains of growing up' she described it. And I could see what she m-meant. Frisk's been looking really...really tired lately. Almost sickly."

"I haven't seen my darling angel in person since the summit," Mettaton mused. "And even then, they didn't seem their usual, cheery self. Poor darling... I hope they feel better soon."

The two lapsed into silence for a few seconds before Alphys remembered how bad it can get if Mettaton's left in a sad mood. "By the way, h-how's the tour going?"

"Oh, it's been sensational, darling!" Alphys heard the robot croon, his depressed demeanor forgotten. "Why, just last night, I got demanded for, not just one, but _three_ encores! And so many people wanted Blooky's autograph; why, I'm positive that they signed more merchandise than I did! I'm so proud!!"

Alphys had been carefully stuffing her things into a bag as the conversation went on, or rather, as Mettaton continued bragging about his successes. Not that she minded hearing about it; it was always good to hear that the robot was still doing well for himself. And she'd rather him stay in a good mood than a bad one, because things could get pretty nasty (in more ways than one) if he was unhappy. It was nice noise to listen to as she busied herself with gathering her things, turning off equipment, and heading toward the exit.

"-and then Blooky-oh my, look at the time!" There was the sound of Mettaton rising from a chair as Alphys pushed open the lab's front door. "I've a book signing to attend! You'll be sure to send my love to everyone, won't you, Dr. Alphys? To Frisk, especially. Be sure to give my darling angel a great big hug on my behalf, okay?"

"Will do," Alphys promised as she dug around for her keys. "H-Have fun on the tour! Bye!"

"Toodles, darling!"

There was a click, and the line went dead. Alphys stuffed the cell phone into her coat pocket while the other hand's search for her keys became on the verge of desperation. "I-I knew I had them," she muttered to herself as she developed half a mind to dump the entirety of her bag's contents onto the pavement. "Or maybe, I didn't?"

Knowing it could very well be a possibility that she had dropped them somewhere, the scientist groaned lowly and re-entered her lab. "And it's anime marathon night tonight..."

Though no longer receiving the funding that came with the title of Royal Scientist, Alphys had done fairly well for herself in the two years spent above ground. She owned her own lab, worked her own hours, occasionally taught engineering classes at the local college, and was able to keep herself and Undyne financially stable. That isn't to say that Undyne didn't pull her fair share of work; the various sports teams she coached throughout the school district were unparalleled in the successes they reaped once Undyne began training them. Yes; the lives the two scaly monsters lived were pretty darn amazing, and recently acquired married life made it all the more amazing.

Now if only Alphys could find her keys so she could lock up and return home to enjoy the perks of married life.

"Okay, Alphys, retrace your steps," she said aloud to no one in particular as she placed her bag on a computer desk and rummaged through her thoughts, rethinking what she had done that day until this point. "Okay. I know for sure I had them when I was searching for those research documents. Had to unlock a filing cabinet or two."

She trotted over to where said filing cabinets were lined up against a wall. No keys were in sight. "Then I got that webcam call from the professor."

She crossed over to her main computer desk. No keys. "After that, made some coffee."

She walked a little ways to the lab's modest kitchen and gave it a quick once-over. Still no keys. "After that, ahh...right! I enjoyed my coffee outside."

Her lab was structured like a giant square, in the center of which a relatively small patch of land gave opportunity for something nice and natural to look at and enjoy, in contrast to the often-times cold glare of science within the lab's walls. Asgore himself had insisted on doing the landscaping for this small patch of land; it had been nothing more than a nine-foot by nine-foot square of dirt that was helpless on its own without the former king's green thumb.

Now, grass grew, flowers blossomed, a birch stretched its emerald green leaves toward the sky, a water feature babbled quietly, stone pavement marked a tiny path that snaked between the three entrances to this tiny breath of fresh air and converged in front of an aesthetically-pleasing metal bench in its center. Today's weather had been good enough to permit one to sit on the bench and enjoy the outdoors while sipping away at a simple cup of coffee (with lots of cream and sugar added to it). That's what Alphys did. And it was beneath the metal bench that she finally located what she had been looking for.

"A _ha_! _There_ you are!" she said scoldingly as she picked the coupled-together keys by the strap keeping them together, on which was depicted the title of one of her favorite animes. "Naughty keys. You should stay in my pocket where you belong!"

She gave them a little shake before returning them to her coat pocket. Upon pulling her hand back out, she brought with it her phone, and opened up the app to a popular social network to declare her escapade with the missing keys to the Internet.

> ALPHYS updated status.

> *thought i lost my keys. v.v turns out i just dropped  
>  them during my coffee break! lollllllllllllllllllllllllll

The character limit had been reached, yet Alphys' claw-tipped finger continued depressing the 'L' button on her phone's keyboard. It did not move, and neither did the rest of her body. She had become stiller than stone; not even the weakest of breaths was inhaled or exhaled. Her eyes had widened to their maximum, and looked even bigger in the curve of her glasses. They were the first part of her body to regain movement after she stopped suddenly in her resuming of locking up and leaving for the day. They stiffly looked to her left, where she saw something out of her peripheral vision as she was typing away after getting back to her feet.

_It couldn't be,_ she told herself. _I-It just can't be,_ she tried to convince herself. But, as she pitifully came to realize, her hopes were all in vain.

A thin green stem sprouting straight out of the earth. A corolla of six golden petals that've captured the sun's radiance in their hue. A snow-white stamen surrounded by these petals. Two thin, black lines running vertical and parallel to each other. A thin line running beneath the two parallel ones, curved into the shape of a simple, unassuming smile.

The flower and the monster were both so still it was as though they were both statues. If only that much were true for the former; it would certainly quell the rising terror brewing within the latter. _Please. Dear god PLEASE. Don't let that be-_

The flower's smile parted, showed off a row of seamlessly-joined, pearly white teeth.

"Howdy!"

Alphys screamed.

Her phone clattered to the ground at such an angle that the screen cracked. She ignored this, even so much that she trampled over the phone, made its screen crack even more in her hasty scramble back to the set of double doors leading back into the lab. It wasn't until she desperately yanked on the handles that she realized thick, leafy vines had rendered her exit impassable.

"Aww, leaving so soon?" That voice. That bright, cheery voice dripping with acid-like cruelty masquerading as joy. It felt like nails against a blackboard in Alphys' ears. "But I just got here! And I traveled such a long way to come see you, Dr. Alphys!"

Alphys felt her core temperature drop significantly. Stumbling over herself, she raced vainly to one of the other three entrances to this tiny garden, but as soon as she saw that the other two entrances were ensnared by vines, it was apparent that this tiny garden was now a tiny prison.

"It's been such a long time, hasn't it?" that voice simpered, a growing slyness appearing in it. "I thought, after so many years, you'd be a little more happy to see me! Aren't you happy to see me again, Doctor?"

Color drained from Alphys' face. Her phone. If she could get to it, call Undyne - call _anyone_ for that matter - then there was still a chance she'd make it out of here alive. Adrenaline coursing through her as much as terror did, she turned so sharply she nearly fell over and made a mad dash for the cracked-screen phone lying near the bench-

As if waiting for her to dive for it before snatching away her last shot for salvation, vines shot out of the earth and ensnared the phone, crushing it to pieces just when the tips of her claws were centimeters away.

"Uh-uh-uh." The tone was like that of a mother scolding her child for trying to sneak in a snack before dinner. "I said I came here to see _you_ , Dr. Alphys. _Only. You._ We don't want anyone barging in on our little...'catch-up' session, now do we?"

Alphys stared at the shattered remains of her phone as if it was Undyne's dust. The erratic beating of her heart was coupled by the weak, whimpering squeaks of breath she took. Eyes so wide they could pop out of their sockets at any given moment, she turned her head back toward the talking, sentient flower blooming before her, giggling at her, winking at her with a small, white tongue protruding out of its mouth.

She tried to scream again, but it came out a choked whimper as she threw her arms over her face, cowered against the metal bench behind her. This was it. This was the end. She was going to die. And she was going to die by her own creation.

"Good. _God._ WILL YOU _STOP_ SNIVELING ALREADY I'M _NOT_ HERE TO KILL YOU."

Alphys let out a squeak like a mouse caught in a trap. Her tremors ceased, and her breath caught in her throat. Eyes still wide, yet not as wide as before, she turned her head back toward Flowey, who had finally dropped all pretenses of false friendliness. He remained in the same place he originally sprouted out of, his face contorted into a snarl that showed irk and annoyance. If he had feet, no doubt he would be impatiently tapping one right now.

"Wh..." It took great, strenuous effort for the scientist to find her voice, and when she did, it came out as squeaky as rubber rain boots. "H...H-H-How d-did you g-g- _get_ here??!"

"Don't act so naively, _Doctor_." Flowey's expression shifted. His mouth grew fangs. His thin black eyes widened horizontally, and two pinpricks of white glared her down inside their inky darkness. "You know _exactly_ how 'determined' I can be when I set my mind to it."

Alphys whimpered again, feeling as though she had just taken a dip in the icy cold waters of the river near Snowdin. Flowey made a move to raise his head to hover over her, thought better of it, then returned his 'face' to it's previous expression of irk and annoyance. Except now, it was joined with expectancy. With what little patience he had, he was waiting for Alphys to do something, to say something.

She did. With shaking extremities, Alphys adjusted herself into a more comfortable (but still on-guard, ready to run) position, her eyes never straying from the flower keeping her trapped. "I...If y-you're not here to k-kill me..." She gulped heavily, adjusted her glasses before they slipped off because of how much she was shuddering. "Why...Wh-What d-do you _want_ w-with me??"

How easy it looked for Flowey to change expressions. It was like his 'face' was made of clay, the kind children could safely play with and mold into creative shapes and structures. His irk and annoyance faded away, leaving a neutral expression behind for a few charged-with-tension moments. Then his gaze shifted, thin black eyes cast toward the ground as if searching for something hidden in the grass. His mouth also moved, his upper row of teeth chewing on his lower lip. He looked as though he wanted to say something, and that whatever he wanted to say, it was going to make him physically ill.

"I..." The look as though he was going to be sick increased. After groaning loudly and rolling his eyes, he met Alphys' gaze again. He looked defeated, almost pleading. "I need...your help.

"There's something... _weird_ going on in the Underground."


	7. Chapter 7

_It all started with a question._

_"Wh...Wha...?" was all you were initially able to say in response to it._

_"alphys what the ---." You don't know the last word Sans had said because his hands had swiftly covered your ears before you could hear it. But that did not mean you didn't hear the indignant rage in his voice before the cool extremities briefly rendered you deaf._

_Alphys heard it, too. She had recoiled from it like it was a viper. "Y-You don't think it's a good idea?"_

_"you do?" It's not often that you've heard Sans angry. But when you have, it never boded well for anyone._

_It had seemed Alphys was just as unaccustomed to Sans' anger as you were. But even though she looked as though he had slapped her across the face, she stood her ground. "I-It'll be in a controlled environment. A-And it's not I'm asking them t-to undo_ everything _; it'll be e-extremely minor. L-Like repeating a conversation-"_

_"then we're jumping back a day. a week. a month. then pretty soon we're all back underground." Sans' voice was bitter, biting, sharper than a knife and just as cutting. Alphys looked genuinely wounded. But it did not stop there. "time's been screwed around with enough already. i'm honestly curious here, alphys: what are you_ thinking _?"_

_Alphys had looked on the verge of tears. "I-I w-was just-"_

_"She's right."_

_Before Sans could get in another word, before Alphys started shedding tears, you had finally recovered from the shock the question had brought upon you. Her spectacled eyes and his dimly-lit sockets looked to you then, and it was clear that your proclamation had thrown them for a loop._

_"She's right," you quietly repeated, but with a determined tone. "Let's do this."_

_Alphys had looked relieved that you were on her side. That lasted only until Sans spoke again._

_"you're kidding, right?" The tone was flat, the smile barely maintained, the look in his sockets like he was expecting a punchline. "you're honest to god pulling my leg here, right? i get that everyone's got their own sense of humor, but that is honestly the sickest joke i've ever heard, frisk. sarcasm isn't funny, remember?"_

_The expression you gave him made him know you weren't being sarcastic, that you weren't joking. His smile almost completely faded away._

_"why...?" The light in his sockets fading made him look threatening, but there was a desperate plead in his voice as he stared at you, stiffly asked you, "after everything that's happened...why do you want to do this?"_

_"Because if that power didn't all come from them, if I really can do it on my own..." Your gaze had shifted, your expression showing him that you didn't enjoy the thought either, but that you were determined to see it through. "...then I don't want to find out on accident."_

_Sans could not have looked less amused, less pleased, less enthusiastic. But, eventually, he closed his sockets and let out a long sigh._

_"...fine." Not looking your way, he had removed a hand from his jacket pocket and held one skeletal finger to Alphys. "one test. but that's it. pass or fail, we don't try again. hell, we never even bring this up again after today. and this stays between the three of us. we tell absolutely no one else, especially if it works. capiche?"_

_You had given him a nod._

_"O-Of course!" Alphys had squeaked, seeming excited yet daunted. "W-Well, uh, sh-shall we then?"_

_Today had started off as any other day. You had gone to school. You had learned how tornadoes work. Sans had picked you up by himself; Papyrus was beginning his driver's-ed classes. You had told him what you learned about. He had made an appropriate pun. He had taken you to your monthly soul check-up with Alphys. Everything was as it should be. That question was asked._

_And now, here you are._

_Riding one of Hotland's still functional elevators with Sans and Alphys._

_Heading to Alphys' old lab._

_Where you will be attempting to cause a reset._

_"There must be a scientific process behind these 'resets'," Alphys says more to herself than to you or Sans as the elevator hums along. "Determination must be a major factor if that's the case. But there must be more to it. If determination was the only element needed, then the Amalgamates would've been causing timeline havoc, too. But maybe not. Maybe this is a human-only ability? If that's the case, then wouldn't there be reports of this kind of stuff in human history books? Ahh, but then, the guilty party might've been able to keep their endeavors out of the history books. Perhaps it has to do with the strength of one's soul..."_

_She continues on like this, but you're no longer concerning yourself with what she's saying anymore. You're not concerning with much of anything at the moment, actually, save for continuing to clutch at Sans' arm so tightly it would've cut off circulation if he had blood vessels._

_You know he's upset with you. Heck, even you're upset with you. Even though your holding onto him so closely you two might as well be joined at the hip, you're both staring straight ahead, not looking at each other, not even sneaking glances at each other out of your peripheral visions._

_So you can only hope your 'big brother' knows how sorry you are through how fervently you cling to him._

_The elevator smoothly comes to a halt, and its doors just as smoothly open. The warm, dry air of Hotland rushes in, but does little to relieve how cold you're currently feeling. "...breaking new scientific grounds if-oh! H-Here we are!" With a slight spring in her step, Alphys walks out. "Just a quick stop at m-my old lab for some equipment, a-and we'll be all set to begin!"_

_She continues on into the sweltering air, not even noticing that neither you nor Sans have moved at all. You don't know about him, but if anything, the prospect about what's about to happen, what you're about to do, fills you not with determination, but with fear. Your breath shudders as you exhale, one hand sliding a little ways down his sleeve._

_Sans wordlessly removes his hand from his jacket pocket as your hand slides down his arm. Just as wordlessly, your hands meet, palms together, fingers interlocking, gripping each other firmly. You know he'll deny it, but you can tell he's just as scared as you are. Knowing he's afraid, knowing how against this he's been from the start, knowing that he's still sticking with you despite all of this; you feel you can be determined enough to see this through._

_Squeezing him so tightly your fingers start feeling tingly, you both step out of the elevator._

_You learned once that the reason there's lava throughout this arid region of the Underground was that, long ago, when the Core was still being drawn up and designed, engineers had hollowed out the earth beneath Mt. Ebbot enough to unearth a dormant, subterranean volcano. This was obviously fortuitous for the Core's completion; it meant that geothermal energy - as Alphys described it - could be used to run the Core, used to create artificial magic and energy to power the rest of the Underground._

_Now that the Core's been shut down, with only a secondary reactor kept up and running to power the elevators (should anyone feel nostalgic and want to revisit their old haunting grounds), the lava beneath's been slowly, surely, cooling down. The volcano slowly, surely, lulling back to sleep. So, compared to the numerous times you've previously ventured through Hotland, the atmosphere is far less likely to make you pass out from heat stroke._

Just one little reset, _you tell yourself as you walk the path leading away from the elevator._ Something simple, _you remind yourself as you descend the small steps to the crossroads._ Like the passwords with Sans in the judgement hall, _you convince yourself as you start toward Alphys' old lab._ Just...one...

...?

_"...e soul scanner should be enough. And if I hook it up to my computer afterwards... Ah, but who knows if the data will be corrupted? But maybe it won't? Aheh heh, but then, that's what these tests are-Oh? Um, i-is there, uh, s-something wrong, Frisk?"_

_Alphys' voice feels far away, though there's really not that much difference between the front door of her lab and where you came to a sudden standstill near the center of the crossroads._

_"whatsa matter, kiddo?" Sans' voice, far closer than Alphys' but still feeling far away, sounds as flat as before, but you detect a hopeful desperation in it. "gettin' cold feet? in_ this _climate? heh, that's a_ feet _in and of itself, amiright?"_

_His humor doesn't phase you. His tugging on your arm doesn't phase you. His saying your name in a worried tone doesn't phase you. Not even the unpleasantly temperate climate of Hotland phases you anymore. Nothing else matters to you, except the spot at which you stare, the very center point at which the four roads heading in each cardinal direction of a compass converge._

_"Where's the save point?"_

_..._

_..._

_..._

_"The...Th-the what?"_

_The tone in her voice makes you feel as though you were just sucker-punched. "The 'save point'?" You finally tear your gaze away from the mysteriously vacant spot of reddish-orange dirt and look to your two companions, alarm and desperation in your expression. "Th-The glowy swirly yellow star thing??"_

_Both Sans and Alphys stare at you as though you just recited a complicated math algorithm in a foreign language._

_"You...you don't..." You feel your alarm increase as you look back to the mysteriously vacant spot. You also feel your face drain of color. "Y-You have no idea what I'm..."_

_Your hands begin shaking._

_"let's head inside," Sans suggests, his hand giving yours a squeeze. "discuss the star thing with the cool air running."_

_He leads you toward the lab's entrance, but you keep staring at the mysteriously vacant spot as you get steered along, not daring to look away or even blink until the lab doors swish shut behind you, and you're bathed in darkness._

_You vaguely acknowledge Alphys turning on the lights, nor the air conditioning whirring to life. You don't acknowledge much of anything until she approaches you and Sans, then tries to discreetly whisper to the skeleton, "D-Do you have any idea what they're talking about?"_

_There's a pause before you feel him shrug, and hear him make a sound that, if there was more effort put into enunciation, would've sounded like he was saying "i dunno."_

_This confirms it. They really don't have any idea what you're talking about. That, plus the fact that the save point isn't were it's supposed to be, where it's_ always _been, means that this 'experiment' is going no where without a few explanations first. And since you're the only one that knows what you're talking about..._

_Your expression turns serious and stony. Filled with determination, you remove yourself from Sans' side and march to the computer desk against the northern wall._

_This was one of the few things Alphys had left behind since starting her new life on the surface. Among other things left behind - including the rather imposing monitor linked to the various cameras that've constantly spied on you throughout your trek through the Underground - you're hoping to find a few more things abandoned in the otherwise cleared-out upper lab inside the desk's drawers. You open them one at a time, give them a quick search before closing them back up again, and soon you find a blank piece of printer paper and an old ball-point pen._

_You hear Sans and Alphys approach as you place the paper flat against the desk and test the pen's ink on one of the parchment's corners. It still works. You then set off to begin your explanation by making a crude drawing of a four-pointed star with inwardly-curved edges in the middle left of the paper._

_"This is a save point," you say in a manner-of-fact tone, the tip of the pen touching the star as Alphys and Sans stand on either side of you, watch your work over your shoulders. "Except, it doesn't always look like this. It shifted, it never stayed still; it kinda reminded me of what happens when you swirl your straw around in a glass of lemonade really fast."_

_You take quick glances to your right and left, to make sure your companions understand what you're saying so far. Alphys looks a bit befuddled, Sans calculating. Otherwise, they look ready for you to carry on._

_You continue by drawing a small box above the star, write the letters_ S-a-v-e _inside it. "If I interacted with this-" You touch the tip of the pen to the star. "-then it'd give me the option to 'Save'." You touch the tip to the boxed letters. "It'd also completely replenish my 'HP'. After 'saving', I'd continue my journey."_

_Beginning beneath the star, you draw a long line that loops and curves and draws back on itself across the bottom half of the paper, ending it with an arrow pointing off towards the edge. "And if I needed to redo something, or if something were to...happen-"_

_Without going into detail of what would happen, you draw an 'X' at the end of the arrow. "-then I'd instantly go all the way back to when I last 'saved'-"_

_You draw a straight, uninterrupted line from the 'X' to the star, top it off with another arrow. "-and all my progress would be undone, like nothing happened at all."_

_"Oh!" Alphys suddenly exclaims. "It's like a video game!"_

_You can't find the words to describe the expression you feel your face morph into, but it makes Alphys immediately backpedal. "O-Oh god. Th-That was a terrible analogy, w-wasn't it?"_

_"nah. it's actually the perfect analogy. sure, it's treading 'dark humor' waters, but let's keep it."_

_You feel your face go gaunt. Cautiously, you peek at Sans, and find his expression unreadable. He catches you looking at him, then he motions for you to continue with your explanation._

_"So, uh, they're all over the place. The Ruins, Snowdin, Waterfall, Hotland, the Core; there's even a few down there-" You gesture to the 'bathroom' door near the other end of the lab's first floor. "-and one right outside your front door, Alphys. Or, I should say, there_ used _to be one." You look to your companions again, your expression cautious. "You've never...seen them before?"_

_Alphys and Sans share glances; they both look equally lost and unaware. "No, I...I c-can't say I have," Alphys answers, her voice small and apologetic. "I used to p-pass that spot on a r-regular basis; I n-never saw or sensed anything unusual ab-bout it."_

_"maybe if you tell us what it felt like when you interacted with 'em," Sans suggests, the curve of his grin encouraging yet guarded. "it'd give us a general idea 'bout what we should've been lookin' out for."_

_You look back to your drawing, your thoughts racing. The save points. Those mysterious, swirling yellow stars. Their various locations. Interacting with them. The thoughts going through your head whenever you touched one. The sensation that came with every save point, always constant, never varying._

_The looming shadow of the ruins._

_The convenience of that lamp._

_The serene sound of the distant music box._

_The wooshing sound of steam and cogs._

_The smell of cobwebs._

_The smell of ozone._

_The door leading to the elevator to the King's castle._

_They all filled you with one thing:_

_"Determination."_

_"determination," Sans quietly repeats, his tone unreadable. "so, if one was determined enough, they could've..."_

_He doesn't finish the thought. You peek up at him, and see that his sockets are staring at your diagram, a deeply thoughtful look in his bright white pupils._

_"M-Maybe that's why you can't see them anymore?" Alphys theorizes. "I-I mean, I know you've got a whole lot of determination already, Frisk, b-but maybe... Do you think it's possible that the determination that came from the d-" You frown at her. "-I-I mean from 'them', gave you the extra push to see and interact with the, uh, s-save points?"_

_You shrug. If that was the case, then it'd certainly sway the reason behind why you could reset time in the favor of it all coming from 'them'._

_"did this happen before, frisk?" Sans asks. "was there any point in the timelines where you couldn't see or interact with the save points?"_

_You open your mouth to tell him no, there wasn't. But then you remember that that's not true. "Yes. There was."_

_Alphys and Sans stand a little straighter._

_"It was during this one," you explain. "After seeing what was down there-" You gesture again to the 'bathroom' door. "-and getting the power back up, the elevator took me straight to the one outside the castle. Every save point beyond that elevator was gone, like they were never there at all. Every one, except..."_

_You straighten with a start, eyes wide and staring dead ahead. "'The End'."_

_Before your companions can question what you mean, you recall, "Th-That room behind the throne room, by the archway right outside where the Barrier used to be. There was always,_ always _, a save point there."_

_"D-Didn't you see it when we went through there earlier?"_

_You feel your cheeks redden. You had been so focused on getting to the lab and getting the experiment over with that you weren't paying attention to much of anything else._

_A hand on your shoulder makes you look to Sans, makes you see the reassuring curve of his grin. "we can always go back and check." He winks at you. "beats scouring the whole underground and checking if the others're still there."_

_You give him a small nod, then Alphys says, "I-I just need to get something from, ah, d-downstairs, then we'll go straight there."_

_She scurries off and enters the 'bathroom' door, leaving you and Sans alone for a while to stare at your poorly drawn diagram. All the while in waiting for the scientist's return, you feel your heartbeat steadily increase. And it's not until you're all back on the elevator to the castle - the ride feeling considerably longer this time around - that you understand why you're feeling so anxious._

_The last time the save points disappeared, it was the beginnings of a terrible trap that had been laid that almost cost everyone their lives._

_You're standing so close to the elevator's doors that if they were to suddenly open and shut right now, you'd be left with part of your nose missing. Your hands are at your sides, periodically clenching and un-clenching into fists. You're bouncing lightly on the balls of your feet, ready to leave as soon as the doors open. You're only dimly aware that Alphys and Sans are talking behind your back, and you're completely unaware of their conversation's topic. The anticipation is torture, the amount of time you're spending in the elevator, agony._

_Finally, the elevator slows to a halt, and the doors swish open. By the time they open to their full width, you've already taken off. Down the monochrome path that first leads east, then turns north and opens up to an overlook of the several buildings of the Underground's capital sprawling out far beyond where you can see. You bypass this outlook - and the subsequent path through New Home where several a time the monsters once gathered there unloaded their woes onto you while at the same time tried to make you feel better about how you needed to die - through the sliding double-doors that provide a shortcut almost as conveniently quick as Sans' to the outlook just outside the judgement hall._

_Your pace is somewhere between a brisk walk and a sprint as you pass through the many columned, many windowed corridor, not wanting to stick around long enough to revive old, unpleasant memories associated with this place. Your pace doesn't falter even as you leave the hall, avoid the basement, and enter the throne room. The golden flowers are starting to grow rambunctious without the king's guidance. You break into a jog and trample through the foliage, past the two thrones (one still covered by a sheet and one starting to become covered with vines), into the room behind, then skid to a deathly still standstill in front of where the final save point resides._

_Or, to be exact, where it used to reside._

_The first time you realized a save point had gone missing, you wasted a considerable amount of time trying to convince yourself that it was still there; that it was simply invisible. You attempted interaction with it. You waited for it to re-emerge from non-existence. You stared at the spot so long and hard that you nearly passed out from forgetting to breathe throughout the duration of the one-sided staring contest._

_But it didn't show up. It didn't renew your sense of determination. The vacant spot where the save point was remained just that: a vacant spot where the save point was._

_And now, this one had fallen to the same fate._

_You feel weak in the knees, your thoughts going haywire. No, it's just not possible. This was always a constant; how can it not be here anymore? And if this one isn't here anymore, then the others aren't either. Why would they be, if this was the only one that remained when others had vanished? Why are all the save points gone??_

_"frisk, you stare at that spot any more intensely you're gonna give yourself brain damage."_

_You flinch so badly you nearly lose your balance. You turn your head to the left and see Sans nearby, with Alphys clumsily following along in his wake, her arms full with the moderately bulky piece of equipment she had insisted on carrying herself, even though you and Sans had offered to help her._

_"thanks for scoutin' out ahead of us, by the way." He's playfully poking at the fact that you had left them behind in your haste to reach this point, but as he walks to your side, fixes his gaze where yours was fixed moments before, his face takes on a thoughtful countenance as he ponders aloud, "so. it's right here, ain't it? or, judging by your expression, it_ used _to be right here, right?"_

_Not confident in how your voice will sound if you use it right now, you answer him with a stiff nod._

_He does nothing at first to acknowledge your answer. Then he takes a step forward and stoops down. His hand curiously waves through the open air, prods the ground, you think you see a spark of blue fire before he looks over his shoulder and asks you, "my hand didn't disappear, did it?"_

_A little confused by the question, you shake your head._

_"didn't look distorted or wonky?"_

_You shake your head again._

_He looks to his hand, his white pupils dimming a bit as they rest on his open palm. "hmm."_

_He straightens and returns his hand to his hoodie pocket as Alphys catches up with the two of you, a fine coat of sweat on her scales from all the heavy-lifting. "O-Okay, gang." Though strained, she sounds enthusiastic. "Ready?"_

_You don't need words to give her an answer. You're expression's enough to make her enthusiasm deflate._

_"We're done here." Feeling unusually cold, you cross your arms over your chest, hug yourself tightly. "I don't wanna do this anymore."_

_Alphys almost drops the device in her arms, which she said before is basically a bigger, more powerful version of the device she uses to 'check-up' on your soul. "Just like that," she mutters, her expression aghast and her tone uncharacteristically indignant. "Before we even got started. You're giving up just like that!?"_

_"There's a difference between giving up and realizing that this was a bad, pointless idea right from the start," you quietly argue, your arms more tightly hugging yourself._

_"We don't know that!" Her expression turns from aghast to justifiably upset. "We can't know if we don't try!"_

_"alphys-"_

_"I only agreed to do this because I thought the save points would still be here." Your voice is starting to shake, as are your shoulders. "If they're gone then I...I can't..."_

_"Okay, then we do this without the 'save points'! You can reset without them, can't you?!"_

_"alph-"_

_"B-But, then I'd have t-to..."_

_"Then why don't you?! I thought you wanted this!"_

_"alphys, drop it-"_

_"I...I..."_

_"C'mon, Frisk! We're so close! Why are you so sca-"_

_"_ NO! _"_

_It's very rare for you to raise your voice. You don't like it when you do. You don't like it at all. You hate the way it sounds, hate the way it echoes back at you, hate the way it makes others recoil from you._

_Hate the way it bitterly reminds you that you're acting like a certain pair of individuals whose actions you've never wanted to mimic._

_Your hands are gripping your arms so tightly you're on the verge of tearing your sleeves off. That weak feeling in your knees intensifies. Your entire body convulses with shudders. Your head turns down low, your shoulders hunching over. Your face goes clammy with cold sweat. You start to feel queasy. As you sense a skeletal hand reaching toward you, you turn and deftly plant your face against Sans' sternum._

_"I...c-can't..." Your voice is softer now, meek and fearful and muffled by Sans' shirt. "T-Too risky... Wh-What i-if I don't... I d-don't wanna..."_

_You're too choked up to say anymore. You feel Sans' arm circle around you, feel his hand comfortingly stroking your back as you devolve into soft whimpers._

_"I. I think. I'm missing something here."_

_Alphys' indignant countenance sounds like it packed up and left, leaving her usual timidness behind to clean up the mess. You're not ready to look her way just yet, but you can imagine that she's twiddling her claws as she hesitantly asks, "Why are you suddenly afraid to try reseting?"_

_"'cause without the 'save points', the only way they'll be able to reset now is to send us all the way back to the beginning, trapping us all underground again, and bringing 'them' back from the dead. and if frisk can't consciously force the reset, then there's only one other, sure-fire way. and for that, frisk would have to..."_

_You don't know if Sans makes a silent gesture to make Alphys understand what you'd have to do, or if she just pieces it together on her own. But you imagine that the skeleton uses his free hand to draw a line across his throat._

_"Oh. Oh god. Oh my god. Oh my_ god _. No. No no no no no no no..."_

_You hear her device clatter to the floor, hear her breathing turn squeaky and uneven. "H-How c-could I h-have forgotten that- I-I d-didn't r-realize- Oh god Frisk. F-Frisk. I-I am so so sorry. I d-d-didn't w-want you to think that I w-wanted you t-to- Oh god I'm so sorry Frisk..."_

_Her voice cracking on the last note, giving way to a tearful sob, finally makes you look her way. Her glasses are misty from tears. Her trembling hands are bunching the fabric of her lab coat. Her head is turned down toward her fallen device, which survived the fall with just a few dents. Her sobs continue filling the air._

_Eventually, she catches you looking her way, and turns her tearful, penitent eyes onto you. Your gazes meet, and her sobs lessen into sniffles. Not quite upset, not quite offended, your purposeful gaze asks only one thing of her:_ Why?

_"I...I thought that..." She looks down again, her claws gripping her elbows as she shifts nervously under your watchful eye. "I-I was convinced that...i-if we could understand the science behind the 'resets'...th-then c-countermeasures could've been made ag-gainst them. S-So that..."_

_Despite herself, she lets out a small chuckle. "So that...what happened to us...to_ you _...would never happen to anyone else..."_

_Your tremors calm._

_"well. that's. uh. that's a pretty reasonable reason," you hear Sans say, his tone somewhat abashed. You see the arm that's not around your back reach up toward his head, hear the unique sound of bone against bone as he scratches the back of his skull. "uh. sorry for getting so snappy at you back there, alph."_

_"N-No, no, y-you were right to be mad." Her voice is small as she dries off her glasses on her coat sleeve. "Th-This was a stupid idea from the start. I s-should've listened to you, Sans." She replaces her glasses, a shaky smile on her lips. "T-Temporal anomalies aren't exactly my f-forte-"_

_A sound not unlike a squeaky door hinge leaves the scientist's mouth as you cross over to her, wrap your arms around her as best you can, and bury your face into her shoulder. "F-Frisk?"_

_"It wasn't a stupid idea. Your heart was in the right place. And now we know I can't reset anymore. Now we know...we're safe. So-" You give her a little squeeze. "-thank you, Aunt Alphys."_

_She makes that squeak again. You feel heat radiating from her as she awkwardly returns your hug. "A-Aunt Alphys, h-huh?" she stammers, a weak giggle in her voice. "I'd b-better get used t-to being called that now, sh-shouldn't I? Aheh heh heh."_

_You squeeze her again before letting go, and you both give each other shaky, yet genuine smiles._

_"whew. glad we're all in agreement." You feel Sans' hand atop your head before you see him come around to your right. He gives you a wink before giving your hair a good tousling, a relieved look on his face. "now that this is all over, anythin' you guys wanna do with the time we have left before tori expects frisk home?"_

_"W-We can go back to my place," Alphys timidly suggests. "I j-just got a bunch of new anime I think you'd like! D-Does that sound alright?"_

_"sure," Sans says. "i'm game."_

_"That sounds fun," you agree. "But, uh, what're you gonna do with this?"_

_You prod the dropped device at her feet with the tip of your shoe. Alphys stares down at it, her expression daunted. "Uh. W-Well. I'd rather not leave it here. A-And I don't really have much use for it back on the surface..."_

_"don't worry. i'll take care of it." Suddenly, the device is airborne, and Sans' hand is coated in blue fire. He goes to walk through the archway leading to the outside, the device trailing along after him like a balloon, and says before he disappears into the antechamber beyond, "and i'll be back before either of you can say 'updogg'."_

_You fight the urge to slyly grin as Alphys, with a lost expression, eventually asks, "Uh, wh-what's 'updogg'?"_

_"not much, what's up with you?" Sans asks from the archway to the throne room._

_You burst into laughter as Alphys bursts into groans. Sans rejoins you, then you take his and Alphys' hands in yours, giving them both a big grin. "Let's go!"_

_Together, the three of you emerge into the warm, open air of this spring afternoon. Alphys gives you and Sans a brief summary about one of her new animes - it's about magical girls and witches and souls being contained in gems - as you walk. Both you and Sans politely listen as she continues explaining, but your thoughts still linger on the Underground, on the missing save points._

_On a certain flower you wish you had more time to try and locate._

 

\----

Undyne's mood had seen better days.

Already an intimidating presence on a good day, the aura of unpleasantness she exuded that cloudy summer day - an aura that threatened 'look at me funny and you're going home with at least one limb missing' - made even monsters that were well acquainted with her keep their distance.

She leaned against the chain-link fence outside Frisk's school, waiting like the other gathered parents and guardians for the school day to end, for the children to be released so their summer vacations could begin. She was positioned a small distance away from the open gate where people would file in and out of the school yard, her arms crossed over her chest and one leg crossed over the other. Her head was angled slightly downward, her one uncovered eye closed and her mouth in a tight line. One finger rhythmically tapped against the faux-leather of the jacket she wore over a white tank top, and she mentally counted them out while she waited for the doors to open, all while remaining aware that the other parents and guardians gathered would not go anywhere within ten feet of her.

As she broke triple digits, Undyne heard the sound of many a small footstep coming from behind her, and ceased her counting. She remained, however, in the same position as those tiny footsteps passed her - each in varying degrees of quickness and eagerness - and didn't move at all until she heard unmistakable sound of Frisk's footsteps calmly approaching her.

She turned to them and gave them a smile so big it took up half her face. "Hey, punk! You have a good last day of school?"

The tone in her voice had made it seem like her earlier foul mood was a farce, but the truth was that she just didn't want Frisk to know she was in a foul mood in the first place. Seemed Frisk suspected nothing; returning her smile, they closed the distance between the two of them and wrapped their arms around her leg.

Undyne was not usually one for hugs, but Frisk was always the exception. The kid wielded a fearsome power that made sure they got their way when hugs were involved. But even she had her limit on how much embracing she would tolerate. "Alright, alright. Good to see you too, Frisk."

She patted them lightly on the head, exercising restraint so that no bruises would form in the shape of her palm. Taking the hint, Frisk released her leg, but kept their smile. She straightened herself, then nodded toward the parking lot. "Let's roll."

Undyne's arms remained crossed over her chest as she and Frisk walked off, not toward any vehicle parked in front of the school, but off in the direction of Sans and Papyrus' house. "So, just a few more days, and you and the bone bros are leaving for that road trip, eh?" she stated, trying to make conversation so the trek to the brothers' home would feel shorter. "That's exciting. Aren't you excited?"

"Mm-hmm," Frisk brightly answered, their pace altering between a power walk and a sprint to keep up with Undyne's long, purposeful strides.

"Planning on going anywhere I'd be jealous of?" Undyne continued, and made the conscious effort to slow her gait to make it easier for Frisk to keep up with her.

"Mom says road trips aren't about the destination, they're about the journey."

"Yeah, well, you at least gotta have _some_ idea about where you're gonna end up! Otherwise, what's the point?!"

"I know we're definitely gonna go see Mettaton on his tour in a few weeks, if that counts."

"At least it's something! Fuhuhu!"

"Aunt Undyne?"

"Yeah?"

"Is everything okay with Aunt Alphys?"

Undyne stopped suddenly, making Frisk run into the back of her leg. It felt like they had run into a block of solid bedrock. They massaged their forehead as Undyne remained still before she, slowly, looked back at them over her shoulder, her expression intense.

"Wh-Why do you ask?" she said, her stammer betraying her confidence. "What makes you think anything's wrong??"

Frisk stared up at her, then turned their gaze to the sidewalk, their expression sheepish. "Well, Mom said both you and her would be picking me up today, but only you came. And I haven't heard from her in a while, either. And, you seem...upset about something. So I thought something might've happened with her." They peeked back up at the tall monster, the look in their eyes reserved yet poignant. "Am I wrong?"

Undyne stared at Frisk. A tic went off in the corner of her mouth. The list of things the former Captain of the Royal Guard was afraid of was shorter than her pinky nail, but how very accurately perceptive Frisk was had definitely made it on that list.

Something between a groan and a sigh escaped her mouth. She closed her eye, and brought one hand up to rub both it and the patched one. "She...hasn't been home for the past two weeks."

"Did you two have a fight?"

"Nah, nothing like that. And even if we did, she would've gotten over it by now. And she wouldn't, y'know, avoid going home, avoid my phone calls, anything like that." Another groan/sigh combo. "She's just working on some new project that's taking up all her resources."

"What kind of project?"

"Wouldn't say. Told me she got contracted by a private investor, and that it's a very 'hush-hush' operation. At least she promised me it's not some mad scientist experiment, like with the Amalgamates. But she did seem real cagey about it..."

Frisk fidgeted where they stood. "You haven't tried to visit her?"

Undyne looked back down at Frisk, chuckled, and placed the hand that'd been rubbing her eyes on her hip. "Do you not understand what a 'hush-hush' operation is? Means Alphys could get in serious trouble if someone not in on the project - like me - came barging in unannounced. Even though the thought is very, very tempting..."

Undyne's eye focused on empty space. The toe of her boot tapped against the sidewalk, created tiny rivulets of cracks in the concrete.

Frisk watched these rivulets form for a while. "You miss her." It wasn't a question.

The tapping ceased, and the concrete was grateful. Undyne sighed lowly. "Yeah. I miss her."

A car passed by, marking the only sound between the human and monster for a few moments. "...When will she be finished with the project?"

Undyne shrugged, making sure the action didn't look as helpless as she felt. "No idea. Could be another week, could be another month, could take the rest of the year! But I made sure she knows she's gonna have to repay me with a whole lot of smooches for all the ones she's denying me for working on this thing! Fuhuhuhu!"

The laugh started off strong, but died quickly. Even though the prospect of several, several smooches was exciting, it still didn't change the fact that it would take an unspecified amount of time before Undyne would receive those smooches. Before she would even _see_ her wife again. That alone was enough to make her sour mood return in full force, make her face morph into an irked snarl-

A tug on her pants stopped the snarl mid-morph. She looked back down at Frisk, her expression still testy but attempting interest in their tugging. The child stared determinedly up at her, then beckoned her closer with their finger.

She arched a brow, but decided to humor them. She bent her knees and stooped down far enough so that their heads were almost level with each other. "You got a secret you wanna tell me or somethi-"

Without a word, Frisk rocked up on their tiptoes and planted a small kiss on Undyne's blue, scaly cheek.

"I-I know nothing can replace Aunt Alphys' smooches," Frisk then shyly muttered, their cheeks flushed and their gaze turned to the fingers they twiddled in front of their chest. "But, if it's smooches you need, I could..."

This was precisely the reason why Undyne didn't want Frisk to see her in a bad mood. Because then they'd do something so unbelievably sappy and/or cute - like that - that would make her melt faster than ice cream in the summer sun into a sentimental mess unfitting of a warrior of her status.

"NGAAAAHHHH!!"

With that little warning, Frisk was suddenly scooped up with enough force to knock the air out of their lungs, then held up in front of Undyne's face, over three-fourths of which was taken up by her toothy smile.

"You're right!" she agreed. "Nothing can replace Alphys' smooches! But you know what! Yours make a decent substitution, ya weenie!"

The flush in their cheeks reddened. They smiled as big as they could.

Guffawing, Undyne then hooked them under her arm, holding them parallel to the ground. "Y'know what? The boneheads can wait! Let's you and me go have some fun, quality time together first!"

Frisk's smile suddenly lessened. "Aunt Undyne, if you set anything on fire again the fire department'll be angry with you."

"Screw the fire department! It's family bonding time!"

"Aunt Undyne, no."

"Aunt Undyne YES!"

Before any further protests could be made, Undyne bounded off, leaving valleys of cracks in the concrete behind with every footfall.

 

\----

Though Undyne was a walking fire safety violation waiting to happen, thankfully nothing was set ablaze in the time she and Frisk spent together that day before she took them to the skeleton brothers' house. Though, when Papyrus opened the door to find them on the front doorstep, both Undyne and Frisk looked as though they had just stepped out of an action movie.

"GOLLY, UNDYNE!" Papyrus exclaimed as Frisk all but collapsed into him they were just so exhausted from their rendezvous with Undyne. "WHAT'D YOU AND FRISK DO??"

"Family bonding!" was all Undyne had to say on the manner.

"WOW! AN UNCANNY COINCIDENCE!" After shedding their backpack, Frisk was scooped up into Papyrus' arms and held up to his rib cage. "THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT WE HAVE PLANNED FOR TODAY!"

"You can stay with us for a while if you want, Aunt Undyne," Frisk offered, their arms around Papyrus' neck in a hug and a somewhat concerned look on their face directed toward Undyne. "I don't want you to be lonely..."

Undyne briefly considered, chuckled, then ruffled Frisk's hair up. "Tempting, but I'll pass this time. And who says I'll be lonely?! I can always go and bug Asgore!"

"WAIT," Papyrus interjected. "WON'T BUGGING HIM INTERFERE WITH HIS AMBASSADOR WORK?"

"That's the point! I'll bug him so much he'll end up letting me help out!!"

"I SEE! JUST LIKE HOW I BUG SANS INTO NOT SLACKING OFF SO MUCH! NYEH HEH HEH!"

For a moment, Papyrus expected the human in his arms to make a pun. Then he noticed that their eyes were closed, their head was nestled in the crook of his shoulder, and their body was very still.

"FRISK! WHY ARE YOU NAPPING?!" His expression indignant, he jostled the child until their eyes blearily opened. "YOU JUST GOT HERE! AND WE HAVE MANY MATTERS TO ATTEND TO BEFORE THE DAY IS UP! NAPPING CAN WAIT!"

"Yeah!" Undyne agreed as Papyrus placed Frisk on the floor. "You're supposed to be getting hyped for summer vacation! Sleep is for the weak!"

They still looked a little groggy, but only until they shook their head to get the weariness out of their system. They gave the two tall monsters a grin afterwards. "Yeah, you're right. It's summer vacation. Lots and lots of free time. I should be having fun."

"PRECISELY! LIKE MAKING SPAGHETTI WITH ME!"

"Or watching me OWN you at video games!!"

"AND LET'S NOT FORGET THE ROAD TRIP TORIEL SO GRACIOUSLY ALLOWED YOU TO JOIN SANS AND I ON!"

"You know what else I'll be able to do with all that free time, though?"

Papyrus and Undyne eagerly looked to Frisk. Frisk's smile became mischievous. With both hands flexing to look like guns, they closed one eye in a wink and said, " _Sleep for a week_!"

Papyrus and Undyne stared at Frisk. Then, from the second floor landing, the sound of a trombone blaring out three long, sad notes was heard.

"SANS!!" Papyrus yelled as Undyne groaned and Frisk doubled over with giggles. "STOP ENCOURAGING THEM WITH INCIDENTAL MUSIC!"

The shorter skeleton descended the stairs, wiping a tear of pride away from his socket as he did. "sorry, bro. but that build-up was just too good." He came around Frisk's side, grinned and winked at them and threw an arm around their shoulders. "your joke skills've really come a long way, huh, kiddo?"

"I learned from the best," Frisk replied, making Sans almost proud enough to shed another tear.

"Eeeuurgh I'll take this as my cue to leave." Undyne reached down to ruffle Frisk's hair once more, an uneven smile on her face. "Not that I don't enjoy hanging with you guys, but even I have my limits on how much I can withstand it when Sans and Sans Jr. are in a room together. I still have no idea how you manage it all the time, Papyrus."

Frisk hid their blushing face against Sans' jacket, and Sans awkwardly coughed into his fist to avoid blushing himself. This had not been the first time Frisk had been referred to as 'Sans Jr.', and fate seemed to dictate that it would not be the last. But both human and skeleton felt as though they'd never be able to get used to the nickname for the rest of their lives.

"I MANAGE BY REMINDING MYSELF THAT IT COULD BE WORSE," Papyrus said brightly. "AND BY WORSE. I MEAN THANK GOD TORIEL ISN'T HERE."

"yeah, 'cause otherwise, we'd constantly be-"

"-getting your _goat_!"

Sans had started, Frisk had finished. Both ended up poorly containing snickers, Papyrus ended up poorly containing groans.

"Yep. I'm outta here." Undyne turned on her heel and walked off, but not before waving back over her shoulder. "Later, nerds!"

Sans, Papyrus, and Frisk waved back. The front door was shut, and the trio set off to the matters Papyrus had spoken of.

The brothers' house was so very like the one they lived in back in Snowdin that there was always the sneaking suspicion that they were one in the same. The only major differences were that there was no snow on the roof, the Christmas decorations were packed away, and that there was a telescope on the second floor balcony that Sans frequented many a night when the weather was good. The inside wasn't all that different either, except a small bathroom had been added beneath the stairs for Frisk to be able to use whenever they visited, which was often. Toriel, Asgore, Undyne and Alphys, and Papyrus and Sans all lived in the same neighborhood, within walking distance of each others' respective houses, actually.

With the end of the school year meaning that Toriel would be busy for the rest of the day with getting everything at her school shut down for the summer break, Frisk would be spending the night with Sans and Papyrus. And with Papyrus around to keep the energy going with puzzles and games and japes and plan-making for the road trip, it was well into the night before things in the skeleton household started winding down, before the whirlwind of enthusiasm that was Papyrus allowed Sans and Frisk to catch their breaths from being swept along in his wake.

Sans was laying on his back on the couch in the brothers' living room, his skull comfortably laying against the arm rest and turned in the direction of the flat screen TV against the wall. With one arm sandwiched between his skull and the armrest, the other was idly flicking through the several channels the surface offered, looking for something to watch with his siblings; one of whom was currently laying on top of him.

"lessee..." he muttered, the click of the remote's buttons like a metronome as he perused the various programs being showed for that night. "this looks like a romcom; nah." Click. "late night talk show; hmm, maybe." Click. "sitcom; always a good fall back, but let's see what else we got on for tonight." Click. "what's this...an hour-long infomercial? definitely not." Click. "those're the kinds of things i think only pap can really enjoy. don't'cha think, kiddo?"

No reply. Curiosity arching his would be brow while the TV aired a commercial for MTT brand beauty products, Sans looked down at the child laying atop his chest.

Or, more accurately, the child sleeping atop his chest.

He stared at them for a spell, then softly chuckled. "all tuckered out already?" After placing the remote up on the back of the couch, he gently brushed some of Frisk's hair out of their face. "and you were the one that suggested we watch some tv. this wasn't an excuse to cuddle up with me, was it?"

Only the sound of Frisk's slow, even breathing gave the skeleton a reply.

Sans chuckled again. "sneaky little rascal."

"FRISK!" Papyrus called from the kitchen, from where the smell of boiling noodles and tomato sauce wafted. "WHAT KIND OF CHEESE DO YOU WANT ON YOUR SPAGHETTI? WE HAVE MOZZARELLA AND PARMESAN. WHICH DO YOU PREFER? OR DO YOU WANT BOTH?"

"might wanna hold off on the spaghetti tonight, bro," Sans answered, his voice barely above his normal talking level. "i don't think they're in the mood for any right now."

" _WHAT_?!" Papyrus appeared in the kitchen's open doorway, his body clothed in an apron emblazoned with the words 'Bone Appétit', his gloved hands (in one of which a metal ladle was held) on his hips, and an outraged look on his face. "MY SPAGHETTI IS THE WORK OF PERFECTION! MORE THAN THAT, FRISK _LOVES_ IT! HOW CAN THEY NOT BE-"

"bro shhh." Sans held a finger in front of his teeth in a shushing gesture, then discretely pointed it downward.

Papyrus looked to the figure atop his brother. Slowly, his outrage smoothed into surprise. "OH. ALREADY?" Sans nodded. Papyrus rubbed the back of his head. "USUALLY YOU'RE THE FIRST TO FALL ASLEEP WHENEVER THEY SLEEP OVER, BROTHER. EVEN THEN, YOU'D NEVER TURN IN _THIS_ EARLY!"

The shorter skeleton shrugged dismissively. "guess we got 'em so excited for everything we got planned for the summer, they got a little too excited and crashed."

Papyrus' expression turned pessimistic; he had already started preparing Frisk's dinner, and now it was going to go uneaten. But of course, that pessimism didn't last long. He brightened up in two seconds flat and grinned broadly. "NO MATTER! SPAGHETTI IS GOOD FOR ANY MEAL! THEY CAN HAVE SOME WHEN THEY WAKE IN THE MORNING! NYEH HEH HEH!"

"great idea, bro," Sans said as Papyrus returned to the kitchen. On top of him, Frisk shivered lightly. "and while you're up, mind gettin' frisk here a blanket? i'd get it myself, but i'm kinda, heh, _with child_ at the moment."

"THAT IS THE ONLY EXCUSE FOR BEING LAZY I'LL EVER ACCEPT. VERY WELL! I SHALL FETCH THEM A BLANKET AS SOON AS I'M DONE IN HERE. NYEH!"

Sans fell into silence, contented himself with listening to the sounds of his and his brother's house. Frisk's steady breathing. The creak of wood beneath Papyrus' boots as he scuffled about the kitchen. The clang of metal against metal as he stirred the sauce around. The rush of water down the drain as the noodles were strained. The slight squeak of the lid of a plastic container opening, then the slosh of spaghetti and tomato sauce before the lid clicked shut. The sound of the refrigerator door opening then closing. Papyrus, free of his apron, emerged fully from the kitchen and headed off to the upstairs, humming contentedly to himself.

All the while, the commercial on the TV had ended, and returned to its main program. It appeared to be a sci-fi movie about intergalactic space travel. Sans' attention was divided between it and the sleeping form atop his chest, but it was slowly, surely leaning toward and staying on the latter.

Stepping down from being the monsters' ambassador was a good move for Frisk. They seemed to be doing better since handing the position over to Asgore, in terms of both health and school. Thank goodness for the second one; there was the very real threat of Toriel not allowing them to go on the skeleton brothers' road trip if they failed any classes before the school year ended. And who knew? Maybe they also stopped having those nightmares they told him about. They certainly acted lively when Undyne dropped them off. But now, in the throes of deep sleep, where little to nothing could be hidden...

It may have just been the way the room's dim light shone on them, but in Sans' sockets, Frisk looked just as unwell as they did the night of the ambassador's summit. Maybe even worse. Dark circles hung beneath their eyes like mourners' veils. Their hair seemed lackluster, their skin ashen. Not only ashen, but thin as paper; several blood vessels and tendons conspicuously stood out beneath it. Though their breaths were steady, there was a subtle weakness in them, like Frisk was subconsciously fighting for every breath.

Sans' would be brows creased in thoughtful worry as his hand lightly stroked Frisk's hair. If looking this sickly was a side effect of puberty, then he truly hoped it'd end soon.

A low rumble made the skeleton look up, made him think that Papyrus had taken a tumble or something upstairs. Papyrus had not. In fact, he was now descending the stairs, a blanket in his arms and a bright expression on his skull. When the lights flickered and the image on the TV briefly went fuzzy with interference, Sans realized the rumble had not come from inside the house, but outside.

"looks like a storm's comin'," he commented as he spied the thick clouds outside the window behind the couch. A small sigh left him. "no stargazing tonight."

"THERE'S ALWAYS TOMORROW," Papyrus encouraged his brother as he draped the blanket across him and Frisk, tucking them in a little for good measure. "AND THE SKY ALWAYS LOOKS A LITTLE CLEARER AFTER IT RAINS, DOESN'T IT? THAT MEANS YOU'LL HAVE A GREATER VIEW OF THE STARS THEN! NYEH HEH!"

"yeah, you're right." Sans grinned. "thanks for the reminder, bro."

Papyrus returned the grin and sat himself down near Sans' feet. Sans moved the hand stroking Frisk's hair down to their back, keeping them secure so they wouldn't accidentally roll off of him.

The house was quiet after that, save for the dialogue and other background noises coming from the movie the two skeletons watched with mild interest on the TV. After a while, Sans felt sockets on him, and looked to his brother. "what's with that expression, pap?"

Truthfully, the sockets he felt were not directed entirely at him, but at the person curled up on top of him. "OH, IT'S...NOTHING, REALLY," Papyrus said softly. "IT'S JUST..."

The taller skeleton chuckled, then reached a hand over to lightly pet Frisk's hair. "I JUST FIND IT SO... _EASY_ TO FORGET THAT, DESPITE EVERYTHING, THEY REALLY ARE ONLY A CHILD."

Initially, Sans was surprised at this statement. His gaze shifted from his brother's face to Frisk's, then the gravity of his brother's revelation took full force.

"yeah..." His voice was small and full of awe, his hand on Frisk's back fidgeting. "so easy..."

The TV cut to a commercial, one advertising a theme park of some sort. The brothers took little notice of it. Frisk unconsciously nuzzled their face further against Sans' chest before becoming still again, their only movement afterwards the rise and fall of their chest with each breath taken.

Sans noticed a change in his brother's disposition. "pap...what's with _that_ expression?"

Papyrus' sockets were wandering. The corners of his mouth couldn't decide what position they wanted to rest in. Sans' would be brows creased in sympathetic concern. "papyrus, if you got somethin' you wanna get off your chest, we can talk about it. i'll try not to fall asleep on ya, if that helps any."

Papyrus considered this for a moment. Then his hand on Frisk's head reached for the remote on the back of the couch. He used it to mute the TV, then replaced it. He brought his hands together on his lap, stared down at them and rubbed them together. His mouth settled on a thoughtful frown. He inhaled deeply through his nose holes.

"SANS...WHY DO YOU THINK YOU AND I REMEMBER THE OTHER TIMELINES BETTER THAN ANYONE ELSE?"

 

> _writer's note: listening recommendation:<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YTXzupGB_-g>_

 

Sans winced. "wh...what?"

"WHY DO YOU THINK YOU AND I REMEMBER THE OTHER TIMELINES BETTER THAN ANYONE ELSE?" Papyrus repeated, then added, "ASIDE FROM FRISK, OF COURSE."

Sans half-expected something along the lines of a punchline. None came. He un-wedged his arm from behind his head and, very carefully, adjusted himself so that he was in a more upright recline so he could stare more effectively at his brother. "i...i don't know."

Papyrus looked disappointed. "SANS, I'M BEING SERIOUS HERE."

"so am i, papyrus. you said you remember because you thought they were dreams. frisk remembers because 'they' were the one causing the resets. i meant it when i said that i knew because of my observation skills and constant déjà vu. but _how_ or _why_ we remember more than the others..." His expression showed discomfort, his pupils wandered and focused on empty space. "i...i _want_ to say i know the reason, but i don't. that's the full and honest truth, pap. i really don't know how or why we were able to remember as much as we do."

Papyrus didn't looked too convinced at first, but eventually, acceptance washed over his expression. His sockets had still not averted from the hands he wrung on his lap.

Sans' expression fell. "...how much do you remember?"

"EVERYTHING FROM THIS TIMELINE, OBVIOUSLY," Papyrus replied carefully. "ALSO, THE VERY FIRST TIME I MET FRISK. THE TIME THEY DIDN'T DO A VIOLENCE. EVERY TIME THEY... I ALSO RECALL YOU ONCE TELLING ME UNDYNE AND THE OTHERS WEREN'T AROUND ANYMORE BECAUSE THEY WERE ALL ON VACATION. AND I REMEMBER, AT ONE TIME, FRISK BEING SO...SO _FRIGHTENED_ OF ME..."

Sans' expression fell even more.

"...HOW MUCH DO _YOU_ REMEMBER, SANS?"

"...enough."

"DID YOU EVER WATCH WHENEVER FRISK AND I ENGAGED IN COMBAT?"

"every time."

The brothers were silent for a while. The only sounds they heard were the distant roll of thunder, Frisk's breathing...and the rattling of bones.

Sans stared in alarm at his brother, who was starting to tremble. "pap what is it? what's wrong?"

Papyrus wasn't even looking at his hands anymore. His face was so downward-turned it almost disappeared into a shadow cast by the room's dim lighting. "E-EVERY TIME, EH?" His voice sounded constricted, like he was choking on every word. "S-SO, THEN, Y-YOU'D REMEMBER IF...I-IF I EVER K...K...KI..."

"if you-oh. oh pap. no. no no no." With one hand around the back of Frisk's head to keep them supported, Sans sat up fully and clasped the other around his brother's arm. "no, pap. they never died by your hands. not even by accident. every time they got weak enough, you'd stop the fight and lock them up in the garage until undyne got there. that didn't work out, though; they'd always escape. but you'd intercept them, and even then- pap i swear, you never killed them. not once."

It took a minute, but Papyrus' tremors soon quelled. His hands hung limp at the wrists as he turned his head to the left. His gaze was sullen and tearful, but there was relief in the small smile he gave his brother.

A shaky attempt was made to return that smile. "frisk can back me up on that if you're still doubtful." Sans' attention turned onto the child he kept supported against his chest, who was surprisingly still sound asleep. "heh, bet they can even tell you about some of the pick-up lines they used whenever they flirted with you. they had some really good ones in the last few; got you blushing so much i'd have mistaken you for-"

"WHAT ABOUT YOU, SANS?"

The shorter skeleton looked back to the taller. "what about me what?"

Papyrus was looking down at Frisk, his expression unreadable. "DID YOU EVER KILL THEM?"

Sans' hand fell away from his brother's arm. His expression fell so much it threatened to completely slip off his skull.

"p-pap that- that's not- why would you even-" He made a bleak attempt to let out a good-mannered chuckle; it came out so hoarse one could saddle it up and race it. "heh, why are we even talking about all this? it's summer break! and that means road trip season! time for fun and relaxation! pap this is obviously something you'd rather not talk about; why would you even bring...this...up..."

Sans realized the answer as the question left his mouth. He didn't even need Papyrus' accusatory, desperate stare to aid in his revelation.

The constantly smiling skeleton wore a frown. His gaze fell away from his brother's, pupils shining dimly. "...god." He reached his free hand to his face, massaged the corners of his sockets with a finger and thumb. "have we really been avoiding talking about this for this long?"

Papyrus kept staring, his accusatory desperation never faltering.

"yeah, that goes without saying, don't it."

Papyrus kept staring.

A deep sigh was exhaled as Sans leaned back, resumed his previous reclined position. Frisk stayed asleep atop his chest. His hand moved from the back of their head to the small of their back. The other slid down his face, uncovered his sockets which stared apprehensively up at the ceiling. Had this conversation really been two years in waiting?

"...no." The hand on his face moved away, rested on the sofa by his side. "not once."

"BUT YOU DID TRY TO." It wasn't a question.

"an attempt was made." His voice was low and emotionless.

"HOW MUCH OF AN ATTEMPT?"

Sans' pupils went dark. His empty sockets no longer saw the high ceiling of his and his brother's home, but a many columned hall bathed in shadows and golden light. Cracked marble tile. Shattered stained glass. Support pillars reduced to rubble. Impact craters. Scorch marks. Destruction. Red. Blue. Accusations. Laughter. Blood. Blood. Blood...

Light eventually returned to Sans' sockets. The hand on Frisk's back clenched, bunched up the blanket keeping them warm as they slept. "...enough to make me grateful frisk couldn't hold a grudge even if their life depended on it."

Papyrus' gaze was unrelenting. But at this comment, a certain degree of melancholy appeared in it.

Sans chuckled. It was a low, bitter sound, one that didn't hold even an ounce of merriment in it. "hell, enough of an attempt was made to make me wonder just _how_ frisk can handle being in the same room as me. much less be so peacefully curled up on me right now."

The melancholy in Papyrus' expression increased.

His hand un-bunched the blanket and moved up Frisk's back, rested between the shoulder blades. The other covered his closed sockets as the curve of his mouth bore a bitter half-grin. "it's like you said, pap. it's easy to forget that they're just a kid. and after so long of watching them repeatedly kill passersby, acquaintances, friends, your only brother..." Another mirthless chuckle made Sans' chest spasm. "it gets so incredibly easy to convince yourself that they aren't even _human_."

Papyrus could not look more melancholic if he tried.

"i gave it my all, pap. you'd be proud at how much of an effort i had put into it. and what a lot of good that did. i couldn't get through to them. i couldn't get them to stop. at the end of it all, i was still as powerless as i've always been to change things." His breath shuddered as he exhaled. "all the effort in the world...and it all amounted to nothing in the end. if that ain't the biggest slap in the face, then i dunno what is."

"...YOU KNOW THAT'S NOT ENTIRELY TRUE, BROTHER."

Sans' fingers parted, partially uncovered one partially opened socket that wearily gazed at the tall skeleton seated near his feet.

"YOU MAY HAVE FAILED IN STOPPING 'THEM'," Papyrus went on, not looking very comfortable but wearing a brave, sympathetic face all the same. "BUT YOU DID NOT FAIL IN GETTING THROUGH TO _THEM_." His gaze flicked briefly down to Frisk before returning to Sans. "IF NOT FOR YOUR EFFORTS, THEY WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN ABLE TO BREAK FREE OF 'THEM'. IF IT WASN'T FOR YOU, SANS...FRISK WOULDN'T BE HERE WITH US TODAY. YOU _DID_ CHANGE THINGS."

Sans pondered this for a moment, then another mirthless chuckle burst from his mouth. "yeah, but at what cost? frisk had to kill themself to stop 'them', and they remembered doing that, to boot. they remember _everything_ , papyrus. _ev. ry. thing._ so you understand why i'm a little more than shocked that they love me as much as they do, right?"

Papyrus' expression fell. His shoulders sagged, and he averted his gaze. He seemed at a loss for words.

Sans' hand slid down his face, covered his mouth as his gaze rested on the face mere inches away from his. The bone around his sockets creased to show a deep, profound remorse. "...you know what the worst part is?" His voice was small, muffled by his hand and stifled with the rising emotion he was fighting to keep under control. "had i known that there were two of 'em sharing the same body, fighting tooth and nail for control...i don't think it'd have changed anything for me. i had so very, very thoroughly given up on them at that point. and they knew that. and knowing that they remembered how badly i had given up on them, even after frisk had pulled through and set everyone free..."

He couldn't bear looking at their face anymore. He closed his sockets, and thought he felt the slightest hints of moisture at their corners. "i...i was just so convinced that they _hated_ me. or at the very least resented me for so actively forsaking them..."

The roll of thunder was more pronounced. Lightning flashed far out among the clouds. The storm was getting closer.

"...HEH."

Sans' sockets snapped open, stared up at his brother in slight appall. "...what?"

Papyrus was wringing his hands again. His gaze was somewhere between Frisk's and Sans' faces, and his own boasted an uneven, somewhat rueful smirk. "I JUST THINK IT A LITTLE IRONIC - HUMOROUS, EVEN - THAT AT ONE POINT...FRISK WAS THE ONE WHO WAS CONVINCED THAT _YOU_ HATED _THEM_."

Sans' non-existent muscles went slack.

"THEY LOOKED SO GUILT-RIDDEN WHEN THEY ASKED ME IF YOU DID," the taller skeleton confessed, his gaze deciding to rest on Frisk's head of askew brown hair. "OF COURSE I TOLD THEM THAT NOTHING COULD BE FURTHER FROM THE TRUTH. BUT HONESTLY? I COULD NOT MAKE MYSELF BELIEVE MY OWN WORDS. I HAD NOTICED THE AIR OF AWKWARDNESS WHENEVER THE TWO OF YOU WERE ALONE TOGETHER. HOW YOU BOTH COULDN'T EVEN LOOK EACH OTHER IN THE EYE... I DOUBTED THE STRENGTH OF YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH THEM, SANS. SO I DECIDED THE BEST THING TO DO WOULD BE FOR ALL THREE OF US TO SPEND THE DAY TOGETHER. I WOULD HELP GET THE BONDS OF FRIENDSHIP STRENGTHENED BETWEEN THE TWO OF YOU..."

The curve of his smirk became more rueful as he revealed, "AND WHAT A STROKE OF LUCK I THOUGHT IT WAS THAT, THE VERY NEXT DAY...IT HAD SNOWED FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE WE CAME TO THE SURFACE."

Sans flinched. Realization dawned on his face. "is...is that why you...?"

Guilt flashed across Papyrus' face. "MY PLAN HAD BEEN IMPLEMENTED TOO LATE, IT SEEMED." He turned his skull away, pointed his face toward the hands on his lap. "FOR THAT WAS ALSO THE DAY...WE FOUND OUT THAT THEY HAD RUN AWAY."

Sans felt as though he was sinking into the sofa. His hand moved away from his face, showed off the heartbroken curve of his mouth. _pap..._

"...don't blame yourself for that, pap," Sans consoled, not feeling strong enough to reach for his brother again. "all that stuff that made them run away, it'd been building up for a _long_ time; it was bound to happen eventually, whether or not you succeeded in bringing us closer together that day. and if you want someone to blame, blame me. i mean, it's not like i made it all that difficult for them to think i hated them..."

His mind wandered back to that day. The thoughts running through his head as he read and reread every word of Frisk's note (which mainly consisted of variants of the phrase 'oh god what have i done?'). His desperation in trying to find them before they did anything drastic. The woe that filled him when they laid bare their life story. The jarring shock that paralyzed him when they asked - _pleaded_ \- for him to assist in their suicide attempt. The peaceful resignation on their face when they thought he was going to oblige. The unbridled guilt and shame that flowed through him as he laid bare all the wrongs he'd dealt the human child he considered one of his dearest, irreplaceable friends.

He had meant every word he said that fateful day. His biggest mistake throughout all the timelines had been giving up on them.

He found the will to look back to Frisk, who remained blissfully unaware that the brothers' conversation was revolving around them. "i had given them such a bad time over the course of their resets." The hand not on their back cupped around the back of their head, fingers stroking and combing through their hair. "so many bad memories they'll never be able to forget..."

"THEY CONSTANTLY REMEMBERED ONLY THE BAD ONES BECAUSE OF 'THEM', RIGHT?" Papyrus softly pondered, a somewhat hopeful look in his sockets. "BUT, WITH 'THEM' GONE, THERE ARE STILL PLENTY OF GOOD ONES FOR FRISK TO RECALL. THEY SAID AS MUCH, RIGHT?"

Sans chuckled; it no longer sounded bitter, but it was still lacking in the 'merriment' department. "yeah, but it's not like removing the main source for why they kept remembering the bad times was going to make all the bad memories go away overnight. remember the sunset motel incident?"

Papyrus cringed, his expression turning equal parts aghast and morose. "O-OF COURSE I REMEMBER!" he stammered indignantly, then his voice softened, took on a mournful tone. "GOD, HOW COULD I FORGET..."

The skeleton brothers fell into silence, their gazes unwarily finding and fixing on a faintly visible scar on Frisk's right temple.

"see what i mean? 'how could i forget?' seems like it's fate's cruel, sick joke that's dictated it easier to remember the bad than it is to remember the good, doesn't it?"

Papyrus seemed at a loss for words again.

"frisk has been through hell and back because of the resets, because of 'them', because of all of us, because of me..." His voice was small and meek. His hands lightly clenched. "they might be able to move on, sure, but those memories're gonna stay with them for the rest of their life. nothing's gonna change that..."

The brothers fell into silence again. Sans watched humbly as Frisk's nose twitched, then they nestled the side of their face more into the fabric of his shirt. It was little moments like these that reminded the skeleton that Frisk really was only just a kid; a kid that truthfully didn't deserve any of the bad that happened to them after their fall to the Underground...

He felt a shift in the sofa's cushions. He looked up to see Papyrus sitting a little straighter, his posture a little grander. He looked like he had come to a decision.

"SO. WE MAKE NEW ONES."

As Sans' would be brows arched in curiosity, Papyrus elaborated, "I AGREE THAT IT FEELS LIKE FATE WANTS US TO REMEMBER THE BAD MORE THAN THE GOOD. AND DO YOU KNOW WHAT I SAY TO THAT, BROTHER?" Boasting a war face, he struck his arm out in front of him, pointed a finger at nothing in particular. "I SAY, 'FATE! I DEFY YOU! IF YOU WANT TO MAKE SURE THE BAD OUTNUMBER THE GOOD, THEN I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL DO ALL IN MY POWER TO NOT LET YOU! NYEH HEH HEH HEH!'"

The strength in his proclamation was loud enough to threaten to wake Frisk from their slumber. But the child remained deep in the throes of sleep as Papyrus continued, "PAST GRIEVANCES CANNOT BE RECTIFIED, NEITHER ARE THEY EASILY FORGOTTEN. BUT!" He pointed his finger straight up toward the ceiling. "THAT DOES NOT MEAN WE ARE UNABLE TO MAKE SURE THEY DO NOT CONSUME US! SO! WE MAKE NEW MEMORIES! BETTER MEMORIES! FULL OF JOY AND LAUGHTER AND LOVE TO PUSH BACK ALL THE BAD ONES! FATE WILL NOT GET THE BETTER OF US! I WILL MAKE SURE OF THAT! NYEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEH! HEH!"

It was Sans' turn to be at a loss for words. Sockets wide, mouth gaping, he stared at the prideful, confident skeleton for several loaded seconds before, finally, a small, genuine smile curved his mouth. "geez, pap," he muttered, his hands trembling as he untangled the one out of Frisk's hair so he could rub his sockets. "what'd i ever do to deserve a brother as cool and great as you?"

Papyrus beamed. "YOU'RE PRETTY GREAT A BROTHER YOURSELF, SANS," he assured the shorter skeleton. "WHY ELSE WOULD FRISK GIFT US THOSE MATCHING 'WORLD'S GREATEST BIG BROTHER' MUGS FOR CHRISTMAS LAST YEAR?"

Sans chuckled, and it finally succeeded in sounding jovial. "heh, you got me there, bro." His hand moved away from his sockets, which looked back to Frisk's calm, expressionless face. "guess i didn't do too shabby a job on that front, all things considering..."

Papyrus also looked back to Frisk, still beaming. Soon, though, his expression turned wary. "SANS?"

"hmm?"

"THERE'S JUST...ONE MORE THING I WANT TO MAKE SURE OF."

"ask away, bro."

Socket met socket, and Papyrus asked, in full seriousness, " _DO_ YOU HATE THEM?"

Sans' smile faltered. His pupils dimmed enough to almost blink out altogether. His skull turned down, his gaze decisively remaining fixed on Frisk's face. Papyrus kept staring, waited patiently for his answer.

...

...

...

"...no."

Sans' expression brightened, showed a wide, genuine smile. With his hand once again finding itself around the back of Frisk's head, he gave the child a tender little squeeze as he closed his sockets, and touched his smiling mouth to the top of their head. "i...i _love_ them. just about as much as i love you, pap."

Sans felt Papyrus' gloved hand atop his own. "THAT'S ALL I NEED TO KNOW. AND," he added, "I LOVE BOTH OF YOU, TOO."

If ever there was a moment so calm and tranquil for Sans before now, he sure couldn't remember it. But, sadly enough, such tender moments don't last forever. And this one was ended when a lightning flash and a thunder crash gave both skeleton brothers a jolt. It also made Frisk stir, but all they did was turn their head so that the other side of their face was against Sans' chest before they lulled back to sleep.

"WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO MOVE THEM?" Papyrus offered, his hand removing itself from atop Sans'. "THAT DOESN'T LOOK VERY COMFORTABLE FOR YOU, SANS."

"nah, i'll be fine," Sans dismissively declined, stifling a yawn as he leaned his head back against the armrest. "but thanks for the offer. d'you want me to read fluffy bunny to you before i join frisk in dreamland?"

Papyrus thought about it, but shook his head. "I THINK I'LL BE STAYING UP FOR A WHILE LONGER. THIS MOVIE LOOKS VERY INTERESTING!"

Oh yeah. The TV had been left on. Sans lazily glanced over at it, saw that the intergalactic space travel movie that had been screening before the brothers started conversing was still ongoing. "hope you enjoy it, bro." He turned his skull toward the ceiling, made himself comfortable and kept his tender hold around Frisk.

"HOWEVER! I MIGHT CHANGE MY MIND LATER ABOUT FLUFFY BUNNY! YOU'D BEST WAKE UP AND READ TO ME IF I DO!"

"sure thing, bro."

Papyrus reached for the remote as Sans closed his sockets. The movie was un-muted, but common courtesy caused Papyrus to make sure the volume was kept low. Sans' breathing became slow and regulated, almost perfectly matched Frisk's. The movie fully captivated Papyrus' attention.

Well, almost. "HEY, SANS?"

"...hmm...?"

"DO YOU...EVER FEEL LIKE...YOU'RE BEING WATCHED?"

But Sans had already fallen fast asleep.

The sky outside was dark and cloudy. Rain was starting to fall.

The image on the brothers' TV became fuzzy with interference once more.


	8. Chapter 8

 

XXXX

_He would always know from the handshake._

_Sure, there were other deciding factors. But it was always with the handshake that Sans got a true first glimpse into what he'd be dealing with in each timeline._

_The first time the kid stepped out of the Ruins, they looked so spooked and jumpy they were constantly looking over their shoulder. They even tripped over the thick branch laying on the path and fell flat on their face they were paying more attention to what may be watching them than to their own feet. When he shook their hand, they looked like they were going to have a heart attack. Or at the very least faint out of shock._

_Maybe he should've toned down on the paranoia factor._

_Oh well._

_No use fretting over what can't be changed, right?_

_The second handshake was what clued him into the possibility that they retained memories from before. They had turned unprompted, and was less hesitant in taking his hand. They knew what to expect._

_After that...it became more and more apparent that they knew more than their unassuming composure led on._

_They'd progressively stepped out of the Ruins with more and more confidence, trekked down the frosty path like they owned the place. They'd step over the branch. They wouldn't constantly check their surroundings. They'd stop checking over their shoulder. They kept staring forward, their gait didn't falter, and like every timeline before, they would not stop until Sans stopped trying to give them a scare._

_Every handshake was different. The first times were hesitant, but with every reset, those became more confident, too. But, gradually, confidence became arrogance. Arrogance became cockiness. Cockiness became aggression. They'd clench his hand a little harder each time._

_The worst times were when they gripped his hand with such force it was like they were hoping to break it._

_The worst times were when they didn't emote at all once the handshake was instigated, or after it ended._

_The worst times were when he'd return his hand to his pocket with powder grinding between his joints._

_What made them progressively get less intense after the worst times? He sure as hell didn't know. They took his hand with less force. His hand came back a little cleaner than the previous time. They'd show some variance of emotion whenever it'd start and after it'd end. Not a one had ever been anywhere on the 'happy' scale._

_And now, here he was again._

_Watching that small body hop over the branch he'd soon after snap beneath his weight._

_Watching that head of brown hair stare ever forward as he briefly revealed himself behind them._

_Watching that enigma of a human child come to the bridge where he'd finally stop being inconspicuous._

alright, 'kid'. _His slow, steady march through the snow remained consistently purposeful, the crunch of snow beneath his slippers just as pronounced._ let's see how it's gonna be this time around.

_Always, they'd stop when they first stepped foot onto the bridge of his brother's comically ineffective gate. Always, they'd stay still as he approached. Always, he'd stop close enough behind them to be able to breathe down their neck, yet far enough that there was enough room for the handshake to be exchanged._

_"Human."_

 

  
////

_He should've known from the handshake._

_Sure, there were other deciding factors. But the handshake this time around should've raised a pretty decently-sized warning flag about what was to come, what he'd be dealing with._

_They gripped his hand so tightly he felt it'd be crushed into dust. Their face was so placid and emotionless it was like it'd been carved from stone. The powder that came with him when he pulled his hand back was so thick, it hurt to flex his fingers._

_Maybe he should've broken his promise right then and there._

_Oh well._

_No use fretting over what can't be changed, right?_

_The many columned hall bathed in shadows and golden light had seen better days, seen better timelines. The marbled floor looked like the world's largest jigsaw puzzle composed of the world's smallest puzzle pieces. Empty sunlight poured unhindered through windows where stained glass once bore monster kind's Delta Rune. Now, it lay scattered in shards and finely-ground sand across the floor. As did the various sizes of rubble several columns had been reduced to._

_Craters had been left behind where he had thrown them against floor, walls, and ceiling. Marble and stone had been scorched black where he failed in catching them in his cross-hairs, and where he didn't fail._

_And yet, throughout all the destruction he had caused for the sole purpose of killing them, whatever it was that was trying to pass off as a human child was still standing._

_Standing, yes. But standing comfortably? Didn't look that way to him. Every muscle tense, every joint locked, they stood as stiffly as a wind-up toy rusty from decades of disuse. Not only rusty, but fairly battered from the beat-down he was able to dish out on them. Bruises blossomed on their skin from where they had collided into every surface he'd thrown them against. Cuts and scrapes bled through their ripped clothes from when they couldn't avoid his bones. Burns tattooed their dust-coated body from when they couldn't avoid (or just barely avoided) the furious beams of white light from his blasters. Their whole left arm hung limp at their side, dislodged completely from the shoulder joint and bent in ways no arm was meant to be bent._

_Yet, through it all, they continued to dodge and attack with the focus and deadly intent of a master assassin. The knife's handle and their usable hand seemed melded together; they gripped it so fervently he could break every finger - break the whole limb off - and they'd still be clinging to it. Their expression was just as horrendously emotionless as when he shook their hand in this timeline._

_This timeline when, if things kept going the way they were currently headed..._

_All he knew was, seeing what comes next, he couldn't afford not to care anymore._

_"ugh..." A fine layer of sweat coated his skull. "that being said..." He knew he couldn't keep dodging forever. "you, uh, really like swinging that thing around, huh?"_

_No reply. Of course there wasn't. Getting them to even emote at this point would be a miracle._

_His options were running ragged. His stamina was starting to dip. He closed his sockets and breathed deeply._

_"...listen."_

 

XXXX

_...Strange._

_They didn't immediately turn._

_...What game were they playing?_

_"Don't you know how to greet a new pal?" he continued in that low, hollow monotone, his hands tensing inside his jacket pockets. "Turn around and shake my hand."_

_Turn around they did. They always turned clockwise to face him, and their eyes were always level with his collarbone when they stop turning. Their expression: candidly neutral._

_He removed his left hand from his pocket, held it out to them._

_They kept their eyes staring straight forward as they raised their left hand._

_Careful and slow, decisive and smooth, they took his hand in theirs, their grip firm and clean._

 

////

_...Strange._

_They finally seemed interested in what he had to say._

_...Best not waste this opportunity then._

_"i know you didn't answer me before, but..." he continued in that low, careful tenor, his hands tensing inside his jacket pockets. "somewhere in there. i can feel it. there's a glimmer of a good person inside of you. the memory of someone who once wanted to do the right thing. someone who, in another time, might have even been... a friend?"_

_Did he truthfully believe that? He sure as hell didn't know anymore. His options were running low, so it wouldn't hurt to exhaust this one at this point._

_He closed his right eye in a wink, his smile ridged. "c'mon, buddy. do you remember me?"_

_They remained very still. Didn't look like they were even breathing anymore._

_He closed both eye sockets. "please, if you're listening..." He opened them again, and the way the bone around them was shaped, it showed desperation, with just the faintest spark of hope. "let's just forget all this, ok?"_

_Their head angled to one side. Dust shifted out of their hair as they did._

_"just lay down your weapon, and..." His sockets briefly closed again, and he stifled a chuckle. "well, my job will be a lot easier."_

_He peeked back at them. Their head was still tilted. They appeared to be considering something. Their still fully functional hand gave a little twitch._

_Precise and quick, resolute and stiff, they raised the knife, their grip unyielding and dusty._

 

XXXX

_The distinct sound of wet air chaotically escaping the whoopee cushion sandwiched between their palms filled the cold, stagnant air._

_"heheh..." No matter what, he'd always allow himself a good chuckle whenever the prank was completed. "the old whoopee cushion in the hand trick."_

_His smile remained in its usual curve. "it's ALWAYS funny-"_

 

////

_The distinct sound of cutting air harmlessly rushing by him as he expectantly avoided the lethal blow filled the cold, stagnant air._

_"welp." One eye closed in a wink, his hands went out of his pockets so he could do a full-armed shrug. "it was worth a shot."_

_Both sockets opened to reveal pitch black emptiness. "guess you like doing things the hard way, huh-"_

 

/X/X

_Unexpected._

_Completely unexpected._

_They did something entirely unexpected._

_It made his every non-existent muscle stiffen. It made his sockets widen, his pupils shrink. It made his smile falter enough to almost form a frown._

_They_

_started_

_to laugh._

_It was small at first. Lost. Unsure. Like someone who had never laughed before a day in their life. Like someone who'd never even heard laughter before. They seemed uncomfortable with it, like it was some poisonous substance choking their airway._

_As it continued, it grew. Became more confident, more natural. Soon it became the giggles of someone drunk on giddiness or sleep-deprivation. Those giggles eventually evolved, became stronger, louder, more confident until-_

X _-they were doubled over-_  
/ _-they threw their head back-_

X _-and their hands muffled the sound-_  
/ _-and they let loose the rancorous sound-_

X _-of their cheerful, teary-eyed snickers._  
/ _-of their roaring, power-crazed cackles._

_The cold, stagnant air was filled with that laughter. It echoed long and hard throughout_ X _the thickly wooded area_ X / _the decimated judgement hall_ / _for an impossibly long time before it finally lessened. Before they looked back to the skeleton-_

X _-their smile barely peeking through their fingers-_  
/ _-their smile far, far too big for their face-_

X _-its curve jolly and friendly._  
/ _-its curve unnaturally cruel._

_And with their eyes meeting his sockets, they_ X _happily_ X / _darkly_ / _told him,_

X _"That was really funny; you really got me good."_  
/ _"I had no idea 'fun' and 'hard' were synonymous."_

_Stiff with shock, Sans could only stare as they laughed, as they smiled, as they met his gaze with those_ X _innocent_ X / _bloodthirsty_ / _eyes. Was this...really the same kid that_ X _once slaughtered everyone in their path_ X / _was so jumpy and afraid the first time they met_ / _standing before him now?_

_"you..."_

_His smile strengthened. Became more_ X _jolly_ X / _vengeful_ /.

_And he was entirely convinced that they were no longer the person he once thought they were._

X _"you got a great smile; what the heck you doin' covering it up like that?"_  
/ _"you're really kind of a freak, huh?"_

_Their smile strengthened, too. He reached out his hand-_

/ _-and patted the top of their dust-encrusted head._  
X _-and summoned bones at their snow-dusted feet._

 

XX/XX

_This wasn't right._

_The same location. The same actions. The same Sans._

_Not the same kid._

_His expression became one of horror as he felt the dust from their hair beneath his palm. "wha-?"_

_There was no time to dodge before the knife sliced across his chest._

 

//X//

_This wasn't right._

_The same location. The same actions. The same Sans._

_Not the same kid._

_His expression became one of horror as he saw the smile on their face behind their hands. "wha-?"_

_There was no time to stop before the bones skewered through their chest._

 

XX/XX

_This wasn't how things happened._

_A coarse, ragged gasp rang out into the cold, stagnant air._

_Limbs became limp. Pupils became tiny._

_Thick red blood began spilling from the gash across his chest._

_He fell to the icy cold ground, and with blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth, he used what remaining strength he had to shakily stare up at the face of his attacker._

_"f...f r i s k...?"_

 

//X//

_This wasn't how things happened._

_A coarse, ragged gasp rang out into the cold, stagnant air._

_Limbs became limp. Pupils became tiny._

_Thick red blood began running down the bones piercing their body._

_They were suspended off the ground, and with blood dribbling from the corner of their mouth, they used what remaining strength they had to shakily stare up at the face of their attacker._

_"S...S a n s...?"_

 

XX/XX

_Wrong._

_All wrong._

_This was all wrong._

_Everything about this was so very, very wrong._

_The face of his attacker broke. Literally. It cracked like porcelain. Entire chunks clattered to the ground and shattered into indefinable dust upon impact. All that was left behind was blackness. Darker than dark, from where two orbs of crimson peered through, and an impossibly wide smile spoke:_

_" **Frisk is dead.** "_

 

//X//

_Wrong._

_All wrong._

_This was all wrong._

_Everything about this was so very, very wrong._

_The face of their attacker broke. Figuratively. It cracked like porcelain. Sockets widened to their maximum, pupils shrunk to their minimum. All the horror and heartache the world had to offer curved his gaping mouth, slipped out of it in the form of a single word:_

_"no..."_

 

XX/XX

_" **Don't you remember, Sansy?** "_

//X//

_Helpless, hopeless tears of betrayal trickled down their cheeks._

XX/XX

_" **It was you.** "_

//X//

_"no...!"_

XX/XX

_" **You killed them.** "_

//X//

_"D o   y o u   r e a l l y   h a t e   m e   t h a t   m u c h ?"_

XX/XX

_" **They loved you like you were their brother...** "_

//X//

_"_ no...! _"_

XX/XX

_" **And YOU**_

_**KILLED** _

_**THEM.** "_

 

X/X/

_It was too much._

_He couldn't take it._

_Overcome by the guilt his mistake had created, his head rolled back and he let loose an agonized shriek._

_"NOOO!!"_

 

\----

Sans awoke on his bed to the sound of his own scream.

He bolted upright, his breaths heavy and his skull coated in sweat. More than his skull, his whole body was sweaty; his clothes were so soaked they hugged around every curve and contour of his bones. He was shaking so much his bones threatened to rattle right out of their sockets and he'd collapse into a lifeless, bony heap.

"...that wasn't real." With strenuous effort, he closed his sockets and slowed his breathing. Made it more even and natural. "none of that happened. frisk is okay. frisk is alive. i never killed them. it was just a dream. a sick, twisted, demented dream..."

It took a minute, but Sans was able to calm himself enough to smile again. "heh. been a while since the last one, hasn't it?"

He checked his surroundings. This was his room, alright, but this was not where he had fallen asleep before. Frisk must've released him from their cuddling in the middle of the night, and Papyrus must've moved him to the comfort of his own mattress afterwards. What kind, thoughtful siblings he had.

The curtains were drawn closed over his window, and he couldn't tell if it was morning or still the middle of the night. He didn't bother with checking. After a dream like that, he wouldn't be going back to sleep for a while. But maybe he would. He's Sans, after all. For now, he decided to get out of bed and free himself of the damp fabric uncomfortably clinging to him. He shed the clothing articles like a snake would shed its old skin, found himself replacements in his dresser and donned them. He also found his hoddie laying across the dresser's top; donned that too before turning to the door.

"hey, pap, you up?" he called, knowing that whatever time of day it was, there was always the possibility that his brother was awake. Papyrus getting any more than five continuous hours of sleep in one sitting was a snowstorm in the middle of summer. In other words: very unlikely.

No answer. Maybe Papyrus was still asleep. Or maybe he just didn't hear him. Thinking little of it, he closed his fingers around the door's handle and twisted it. "i was thinkin' we could do something special for breakfast today. what do you think about..."

He opened the door, stared, closed it shut with a click.

He mentally counted to three.

He opened the door, stared, closed it shut with a click.

He mentally counted to five.

He opened the door, stared, closed it shut with a click.

He mentally counted to ten.

He opened the door, stared, kept staring.

"...welp." For lack of anything else to do, he stepped through the doorway. "looks like i'm still dreaming."

The cool, moist air of Waterfall's marshlands embraced the skeleton as he stepped out of the wooden archway leading to where the Nice Cream Guy once set up shop. False stars glimmered faintly in the cavern's high ceiling far above his head, and directly before him on the southern wall, the gems embedded in the sediment shone in a spectacular pattern. It was a nice thing he could see the southern wall from this angle.

To his left, he spied the disproportionately small gap a friendly little bird once carried people over, no matter how daunting the task. To the south, the bio-luminescent aqua blue of the marsh's magically-infused water kept the path well lit for those who'd frequent the waterfall-filled area beyond. And, immediately to his right, he spotted a familiar telescope stationed by the wall.

He walked to it, ran a fingertip around the now dried-out reddish-pink ink around its eyepiece, thought fondly of the times he tempted Frisk into using this normally expensive, premium telescope for free. The first time the kid fell for it, they recoiled from it almost immediately; some of the ink got in their eye, made it swell up and water so much they wasted a considerable amount of time in that room treating it before moving on. He felt so bad he gave them a full refund.

After that, sometimes they'd indulge him, others they'd not even look his way, and others still he wouldn't even be there at all. Those were the times he didn't want to think about. The final time, Frisk took the black eye like a champ, expertly avoided getting the ink in their eye, and told him to keep the change. He got a good enough chuckle out of that one he was still snickering even as Frisk went on their merry way, brandishing the black eye like a medal of honor. He liked that time the most. Liked that version of Frisk the most.

He chuckled at the memory, idly gave the telescope a good spin before moving on. Its hinges squeaked as it made its little pirouette. "good to see this place is the same as ever," he said to no one, for there was no one around to hear him. "howzabout a quick stop at grillby's while i'm...here..."

His slippers scuffed across the ground as he came to a halt. He stood very still for a few seconds, then turned his gaze northward. "that's...new."

He'd been walking west, towards the mouse hole near which an enigmatic table topped with a piece of crystallized cheese ruminated, waiting for the day the mouse would extract the dairy product stuck to its surface. The walk there felt longer, more distant. The hallway between this place and where his telescope was stationed was indeed longer, the distance between the two rooms greater. This was very new to Sans.

As was the grey door he was currently staring at.

It looked unassuming enough, but just looking at it made every one of Sans' nerves stand on end. Where'd it come from? How'd it get here? He'd never seen it before, much less see it in this location before. Not once throughout the varying timelines, this door hadn't made an appearance. What was it doing here?

And why did it feel like it was... _beckoning_ him?

"...alright, dream." Steeling himself, he closed his fingers around the door's handle and twisted it. "lessee what you got in store for me."

He opened the door, found himself staring down a short, monochrome corridor. He hesitated for only a moment before stepping into this corridor, the door closing behind him with an eerily silent swish. Nothing could describe the atmosphere there, and that wasn't for lack of trying to find a fitting descriptive word. It literally felt like _nothing_. A void. An emptiness. Where only the monochrome path beneath his feet gave any sense of direction and purpose.

He felt a shudder along his spine. He felt like he was being watched.

He carefully walked forward.

The short, monochrome corridor opened up into a small, monochrome room. The same atmosphere of nothingness persisted in this room as well. It was heavier here, unstable, like a waiting rock slide one wrong move away from crashing down on him. Another shudder. The feeling of being watched intensified.

He could go no further than one step beyond the end of the corridor. The oppressive atmosphere was too great. He felt like his body was going to fall apart from how violently he was shuddering. There was definitely someone watching him.

"o-ok-kay. th-this was a mist-take." His tone was light and carefree despite the situation he found himself in. Finding it hard to keep his vision focused, he slid one foot backwards. "t-time to get the h-hell outta h-"

His heel met a wall where the corridor was supposed to be. A look over his shoulder revealed it to be a wall of solid black, darker than dark, and more than that, it felt _alive_. Ready to ensnare and tear him apart should he decide to brave touching it again.

He dared not. He backed away from the blackness, retreated himself further into the small, monochrome room. His very soul felt like it was going to shake itself apart.

"wh-what's going on?" His left socket flared, all in attempt to keep himself focused on not being torn asunder by the oppressive nothingness. "wh-where am i??"

**-̛̕-̵͞ú҉ ̷k͏̕ǹ-̡́- ̴͏v̨̕͜-̢̨-̴͠y ̨̀͢-̸͝-̛-̵ļ͜ w͟͜͟h--- ̢̛͡-͏-̕u͘ ҉a͝-̶͡--̢͜**

Sans cringed as though sucker-punched. The voice seemed to be coming from everywhere at once, yet from nowhere at all. There were no words to describe it, no way to place it. It sounded like nothing he'd ever heard before.

And yet, it felt...familiar.

The wall of black shifted, surrounded him from all directions, trapped him. The floor of monochrome was shrinking.

**\--͞ ͡i̸͠-́ -̢-̢-͢͞͏ŕe̢ ̵̕-͝-̢͞҉u̧ ͘͢a̡-͝͝-͏-̡̀́d̸̴o-̴-̀͠-͢ ҉̛-̢͏̨e͝.͢͜**

Sans felt like he was coming undone, like microscopic tendrils of the black nothingness surrounding him were picking him apart one speck of dust at a time.

**-͟-҉u̧ g-̷̢͠-̕͡͞e ̛͢-̷́͘-͘ ̵̧--͝͏ ̡͘-̡ŕ̀-͜-̨̨̀-g̷͞ ̛͏-ǫ͟ ̢r̶e̡-̧͘͞-̨-͡e̶͞-̷̧̢ ̷͏m̶-̛͟͠-͘**

Images flashed in his mind. A badge in a drawer. A photo album in another. Blueprints written in strange handwriting. A broken machine behind a curtain. All of them: collecting dust and rust.

**-͞ e̵͡x̵͟-̵̵--̢̨̛t̕͞e͏̧͝- ̡f̧-̷̷r̨͟͢ ̡b̸͝-̀-̕-̶͝ér̢ ͢͝o̢҉-̴͘͢ ̛--͡u͘͢.̵͝..̴͟**

The suffocating atmosphere was drowning out everything that wasn't the darkness.

**T̕͟-͏̸-̀͢-͡ ̸b̸̴-́-̨-̧g͡ s҉a̷-̸̵-̀.̕͟͏.̡̡.̕͜**

He couldn't move. He couldn't speak. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't even think.

A face appeared before him. Gleaming white, empty eyed, it smiled unfathomably down at him.

**C͠ ̴ó̧͝ ́́m ̡̕͢e ͢͝ ̨͏ ҉̧j̸́ o̶ ̨i̴̴͜ ͢͞n̶͝ ̧́͞ ̸ t̸̛͟ ̸̧͟h͢ ̢e͘͜͡ ̨͜ ̷ ͟͡f́͠͡ ͟u̶ ̴ǹ͝ ͝.̀͢**

And the darkness swallowed him whole.

 

\----

Sans awoke on the couch to the sound of booming thunder.

He remained stiller than stone, save for the rise and fall of his rib cage with every heavy, laborious breath he took. His skull was sweating bullets. His eye was flaring; he could tell because of the blue light illuminating the high ceiling above his head. His every joint felt so stiff they felt cemented together.

"...dream." With agonizing effort, he closed his sockets, toned down the intensity in the one, and forced himself to calm down. "it was a dream. only a dream. it wasn't real. none of it was real..."

_...was it?_

He somehow managed to calm himself. Groaning lowly, he brought his hand to his face, massaged the inner corners of his sockets with a forefinger and thumb. "this is _not_ what i meant when i said i'd be joining frisk in dreaml-"

His sockets snapped wide open. His free hand roamed across his torso. The other soon joined. Sockets wide, he looked down, and in the darkness, saw that he was alone. No one else was on the sofa. No one was curled up on his chest.

Panic rose within him. Had Papyrus moved them before he went to bed himself? Had they gotten up on their own to use the bathroom or something? Or, worse yet...had he thrown them off of him in the fits of his nightmares?

"...frisk?"

His weak call into the darkened room was nearly drowned out by another crash of thunder, which was accompanied by a bright flash of lightning just outside the window that briefly banished the darkness inside. In that moment, he was able to see the blanket his brother had previously draped across Frisk lying on the ground, positioned in such a way that made it look like it was trying to slither away. He followed where it trailed off, and soon, he spied a small, thin figure standing in the dark.

Relief washed over him. "h-hey, frisk," he addressed the child as he sat up, made the curve of his smile friendly. "what'cha doing up this late, huh? storm didn't wake ya, did it?"

Frisk acted as though they didn't hear him. They stood very stiffly a small distance away from the sofa, wearing the clothes they had gone to school with as their pajamas. Their head hung low, and with the fact that they had their back to him, Sans was unable to see their face from his current position. Their arms were hunched slightly forward, and their fingers were not uniformly bent. Everything about their posture was very rigid; it did not look comfortable.

Sans sat a little straighter, his smile waning. "frisk? buddy? you doin' okay ther-"

A shrieking wail of static made him cringe, made his hands fly to the sides of his skull where ears would be to protect his hearing. The wail was so loud, so pronounced, that even with the protection his hands were providing, it felt like the noise would crack his skull straight down the middle.

Just as suddenly as it started, it stopped. But not completely. It had only lessened into a buzz that, while not as pain-inducing, was still hard on the ears. Or what he had for ears. Sans had taken his sockets off of Frisk during the ruckus. He immediately turned them back in their direction.

And he did so in time to see Frisk aimlessly shuffle forward.

He recalled something Toriel had told him about when she asked if it would be alright for Frisk to stay with him and his brother for the night. Or, to be more exact, something Toriel had _warned_ him about. It'd been happening over the course of the last several weeks, and though there were only two confirmed instances of it, there was a certain wariness about her when she spoke of it; she almost looked frightened.

Sans could now understand why. "frisk?" he called out again to the oddly-behaving child, one sock-covered foot off the couch. "you're not...sleep-walking, are ya?"

No reply. Frisk continued their aimless shuffle. Sans' suspicions were confirmed.

A slow, steady exhale pushed through his teeth. Toriel had told him that, if he caught them sleep-walking, that he was supposed to let them be. Merely observe where they go and what they do; stop and try to wake them only if absolutely necessary. But just sitting there and doing nothing while they floundered about was making him antsy. And that wasn't taking into account the persistent buzz of static steadily driving him up the wall. Where was it coming from? It was coming from...

He turned half his attention to where it seemed the noise was originating, the other half staying on Frisk's lumbering form. He found himself looking at the TV, the image on its screen drowning in white and black snow. He also found himself a little confused. But not about why the screen was nothing but static (the storm most likely had something to do with it). Papyrus would've shut it off before he turned in for the night; why was the TV on?

The garbled clamor was starting to give him a headache. He reached behind him and blindly searched for the remote as he watched Frisk's wobbling steps carry them in the general direction of the eastern wall. He found the device, pointed it toward the screen, pressed the 'Power' button. The static, visual and audible, persisted.

He looked at the remote, gave it a little shake before trying to turn the power off again. When that didn't work, he banged it against the heel of his palm like a judge's gavel and tried again. The static, visual and audible, persisted.

"...weird." Deciding the lesser of two evils would be to turn it off manually than endure the clamor any longer, he dropped the remote onto the couch by his side, rose to his feet and started walking. "batteries must've dried out or someth-"

A blast of wind made him freeze where he stood. Sockets wide, he turned sharply on his heel and found the front door wide open, heavy drops of rain pouring in from the outside.

And Frisk's head of brown hair disappearing beyond the door frame.

A yelp rose in his throat as he raced to the door, yanking a couple of jackets hanging off the coat rack near it as he made his exit. He stood on the welcome mat, the rain pounding against him as he slipped on one of the jackets, searched through the downpour for that head of brown hair. The rain messed with his depth-perception, but soon enough, he spotted who he was looking for. How'd they get so far across the front lawn in such little amount of time?

"frisk!" he yelled over the roaring wind, his approach to them encumbered by the slippery, muddied ground beneath his socks. "i like the rain as much as the next person, but now is _seriously_ not the time to go jumping in puddles!"

It really wasn't. The rain fell so heavily it felt like it'd leave dents in Sans' skull. The surrounding trees swayed ominously in the violently blowing wind. Thunder and lightning crashed ferociously among the thick, dark clouds above; felt like a bolt would strike the ground at any given moment. Definitely not the type of weather for someone like Frisk to be out in. Even if they weren't sleep-walking.

The child continued to act as though they couldn't hear him. But at least they weren't venturing further away from him as he closed the distance between them. They were standing statue still and just as stiff as when he saw them before they began doing their unbalanced foxtrot. The rain had completely soaked them head to toe, but they seemed completely unfazed by it. They were so still they weren't even shivering; didn't seem like they were even breathing for that matter, either.

A more absolutely necessary need for Sans to rouse them could not have made itself any more presentable. He darted around in front of them, clasped his hands down on their shoulders with two wet 'splats'. "frisk you need to wake up n-"

The rain continued to pour. The wind continued to blow. The thunder continued to rumble. The lightning continued to flash. The storm continued. The world continued. Time continued.

But even time itself seemed to freeze as much as the skeleton had the instant he looked upon the face of the person before him.

Because it sure as hell wasn't Frisk's.

Gleaming white, empty eyed, it smiled unfathomably down at the space between the two soaked-to-the-bone bodies. More than empty, the eyes seemed to be so devoid of light or matter it was as though two black holes were being contained upon the smooth ivory face. One was open wide, seemed to stare at nothing yet everything all at once. The other, not so much; it looked half opened, like the upper eyelid was swollen. The face was fractured in two places; a perfectly straight crack connected the wide-open eye to the unfathomably smiling mouth. The second was more jagged, and ran from the swollen upper lid of the other eye, up along the forehead, and disappeared off into parts unknown beneath Frisk's damp brown hair. It was like the child was wearing a mask; a very ill-fitting mask that, despite its poor conformity to the shape of their face - their _real_ face - didn't look in danger of slipping off at all.

Wrong.

All wrong.

This was all wrong.

Everything about this was so very, very wrong.

He couldn't move. He couldn't speak. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't even think.

Not even when 'Frisk' took notice of his presence.

Frisk's head slowly turned up. Locks of Frisk's hair slipped across the 'mask' as their neck craned back. Empty eyes met empty sockets.

The unfathomable smile widened.

Static joined the storm's tumultuous chaos.

 

\----

Papyrus had changed his mind about Fluffy Bunny.

"SANS!" Every footfall he made down the stairs made a boom almost as loud as the thunder outside. "I'VE CHANGED MY MIND ABOUT FLUFFY BUNNY-HUH?"

He cleared the last step, and came to a standstill. The scene before him was not how he left the room before he began preparing for bed. The TV was on, its screen showing some kind of infomercial. The blanket he had draped across the human child sleeping atop his brother was lying twisted and askew on the floor. The front door was wide open; the floorboards just inside the door frame were darkened by rainwater.

Neither Sans nor Frisk were anywhere in sight.

Papyrus let out a loud, exasperated sigh. "SANS! FRISK! YOU KNOW YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO LEAVE THE TELEVISION ON WHEN YOU GO TO BED!" Huffing indignantly, he crossed over to the couch and snatched up the remote, pointed it at the TV and pressed the 'Power' button. It shut off instantly. "AND YOU COULD HAVE AT LEAST KEPT THE BLANKET ON THE COUCH BEFORE DECIDING TO MOVE TO YOUR OWN ROOM, SANS!"

He scooped the blanket up in one quick swipe, threw it over the back of the sofa with a flourish. Then he tromped to the front door. "AND WOULD IT REALLY NOT BE OUTSIDE OF YOUR POWERS TO-OH?"

He was about to slam the door shut and lock it up tight when he spotted, through the rain, the two individuals he previously thought were still somewhere inside the house. "SANS! FRISK! WHAT ARE YOU DOING OUT THERE??"

With little regard to the elements, he strode toward the pair. "AND WHY ARE THE TWO OF YOU ENGAGED IN A STARING CONTEST???"

That was certainly what it looked like they were doing to the taller skeleton. Sans and Frisk were facing each other, and neither seemed to be moving. Sans' hands were on Frisk's shoulders, seemed to be gripping them firmly. Frisk's back was to Papyrus, so the only face he could see was his brother's. And he could see that his sockets were pitch black. Both of them were completely drenched with rain water. The pair seemed too caught up in their staring contest to realize Papyrus was approaching.

"DO YOU NOT REMEMBER THAT FRISK GOT SICK THE LAST TIME THEY STAYED OUT TOO LONG IN THE RAIN??" He remained oblivious to the growing tension between the two shorter individuals as he closed the distance between himself and the pair. "HAVING FUN IN THE RAIN IS GOOD, BUT IF YOU MUST HAVE THIS STARING CONTEST, IT'S BEST WE DO IT INSI-"

His hand planted itself atop Sans'. He sandwiched it between his own and Frisk's shoulder. A flash of lightning streaked across the dark and cloudy sky.

Then all that was left to signify the trio had been standing there that stormy night were their footprints, which were already starting to fill up and become washed away by rain water.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: mentions of abuse

_"SO YOU WON'T FIGHT..."_

_Of course you won't fight. You don't want to fight. You never wanted to fight. All you want is to leave this place. Where you'll go afterwards doesn't matter to you right now._ Just let me leave...

_"THEN, LET'S SEE IF YOU CAN HANDLE MY FABLED 'BLUE ATTACK!'"_

_Blue attack. You remember being told about those. Just stay still, and you won't get hurt._ Just let me leave...

_An array of bones, light-blue in color, swarm you from all sides. You steel yourself, make yourself statue still. You feel them pass through your body, harmlessly passing over your soul with a cooling sensation._ Just let me-

_Your knees buckle under a sudden, impossibly heavy weight in your chest. The world rushes by in front of your eyes in a blur of white. You're falling. Dropping to the snowy ground with a graceless 'thud'. You land flat on your face._ Wh-Wha-?

_Before you can wonder what happened, before you can even start to regather your bearings, something rushes into you. Sharp and painful, you cringe as the magically summoned bone bashes against your soul._

_Which is now, for some reason, deep blue in color._

_"YOU'RE BLUE NOW. THAT'S MY ATTACK! NYEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH!!!"_

_You get up onto your hands and knees, but are unable to do any further. The weight in your chest that made you fall; it was your soul. It's become such a heavy burden now, so heavy that you can't even get back to your feet. In fact, staying on your hands and feet like this is difficult; you feel like your limbs are going to snap like twigs under the weight._

_"TRY HOLDING 'UP' TO JUMP!" That's the only warning you receive before another set of bone attacks begins closing in on you. Up? Jump? You're barely even able to stay on your hands and knees as it is! How can he expect you to-_

_Too late. The bones barrel into you with such force, you feel bruises already start to form._

This...this doesn't make any sense. The 'blue attack' wasn't supposed to be like this! Sans he...he said that-

H e   l i e d .

_Your muscles stiffen._ N-No...he said-

H e   l i e d .

_"HOW HIGH CAN YOU JUMP?" Another array of bones. Somehow, you manage to do a little hop over the first one, but are unable to catch and prepare yourself to clear the others before they, too, bash into you._

_All the while, contradiction after contradiction turn your thoughts into chaos._

"if you see a blue attack, don't move and it won't hurt you."

H e   l i e d .

"don't worry. he's not dangerous. even if he tries to be."

H e   l i e d .

"don't sweat it, kid. i'll keep an eyesocket out for ya."

H e .   L i e d .

_"HOLD 'UP' LONGER TO JUMP HIGHER! JEEZ!!!"_

_The chaos in your head is too much. It clouds your judgement. You jump too soon. Your chin and the top of a summoned bone collide. You bite down hard on your tongue. The collision happened with such force that you're thrown back, land on your back in the snow. And all you see now are stars swirling in the icy fog surrounding this battle site with the second skeleton you encountered in this place._

_You make no effort to move, no effort to defend yourself, no effort to do much of anything. Save for continuing your downward spiral into confusion, hurt, and betrayal._

...Why...? He...he seemed so friendly before... I th-thought he-

H i s   o n l y   g o a l   i s   t o   c a p t u r e   y o u ;   h e ' s   o n l y   a c t i n g   h o s p i t a b l e   t o   g e t   y o u   t o   l o w e r   y o u r   g u a r d ,   t o   m a k e   c a p t u r i n g   y o u   e a s i e r .

B-But he...he s-said-

H e   l i e d .   J u s t   l i k e   h i s   b r o t h e r .   T h e y ' r e   b o t h   l i a r s .

B...But...

J u s t   l i k e    _s h e_ w a s .

_This place is cold as it is. But you feel your core temperature drop as memories - very fresh, new memories - get recalled to your forethoughts._

_You just wanted to leave. She wouldn't let you. She surrounded you in flames. She hurt you. She told you to fight back. You did. You were sure that's what she wanted. You didn't think you'd actually..._

_Now, she's gone. And her last words still echo in the back of your mind._

"B e  g o o d ,  w o n ' t  y o u ?  M y  c h i l d . . ."

S h e   d i d n ' t   t r u t h f u l l y   c a r e   a b o u t   y o u .

...Just let me leave...

S h e   w a s   k e e p i n g   y o u   a   p r i s o n e r .

...let me leave...

T h e r e   w a s   o n l y   o n e   w a y   s h e   w o u l d   a l l o w   y o u   t o   l e a v e .

...please...

Y o u   h a d   t o   F I G H T .

_A triumphant laugh calls you back to reality. The snow. The fog. The battle. The pain. How long had you been wrapped up in your thoughts to have become completely numb to what he was doing to you?_

_"YOU'RE TOO WEAK!" The skeleton marches to where you lay in the snow, his features becoming clearer through the mist with each step. "I WAS EASILY ABLE TO CAPTURE YOU!!!"_

A n o t h e r   p r i s o n .   A n o t h e r   d i s h o n e s t   c a p t o r .

_"I WILL NOW SEND YOU TO THE CAPTURE ZONE!!" He's getting closer. You're able to see the boastful expression on his skull. "OR, AS SANS CALLS IT... OUR GARAGE???"_

Y o u   w a n t   t o   l e a v e ,   d o n ' t   y o u ?

_He stands over you, one gloved hand already reaching for you. "YOU'RE IN THE DOGHOUSE NOW! NYEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH!!!"_

T h e n   y o u   k n o w   w h a t   y o u   m u s t   d o .

_His hand clenches empty air. The front of your shirt used to be there. Under the weight of your soul, you had managed to scoot back along the ground before he could snatch you._

_"Leave me alone..."_

_Surprise registers on his face. "OH-HO? THE HUMAN FINALLY SPEAKS!" He leans forward a bit. "BUT. UM. WHAT DID YOU SAY?"_

_You see his hand twitch towards you. You back away from it like it's a cobra. "L-Leave me alone..."_

_"LEAVE YOU ALONE?" His skull angles to one side, his expression somewhat befuddled. Then you hear a scoff. "BUT I AM THE VICTOR! I DEFEATED YOU EASILY, AND AS SUCH, I AM ALLOWED TO REAP THE SPOILS! AND THE SPOILS, IN MY CASE, IS CAPTURING YOU! IF YOU'RE WORRIED ABOUT THE STATE OF THE CAPTURE ZONE, I CAN ASSURE YOU, I HAVE VERY HIGH STANDARDS IN KEEPING MY PRISONERS COMFORTABLE-"_

_He reaches for you again. You scuttle like a crab away from him. Your hand grazes something stiff and wooden. A tree branch or a root. "L-Leave m-me a_ lone _...!"_

_You see all pretenses of pride and heroics drop from his expression. He stares at you, wearing a frown that makes it look like he's worried, or at least confused. "H...HUMAN...?" He takes a step closer to you. It's clear that the expression he wears is one of concern. "I...I THOUGHT YOU WERE PREPARED TO... WHY DO YOU LOOK SO-"_

_"Leave."_

_Your fingers wrap tightly around the thick piece of wood beside you._

_"_ Me. _"_

_Your other hand joins the first's tight grip around the root or branch._

_"_ ALONE! _"_

_You've no idea where the burst of strength comes from that allows you to fight the magic keeping you weighed down, lift the heavy branch above your head, and give it a mighty swing._

CRACK!

_You feel the impact of the branch against the side of the skeleton's head vibrate your bones. You're not sure if the crack you heard was just the branch breaking upon impact, or if you also hit him hard enough to fracture the bone on his skull. All you know is that your swing has sent him reeling, stumbling backwards with less coordination than someone who's had one drink too many._

_Also, that your soul no longer feels so heavy._

_Your attack must've broken the concentration he needed to keep his hold on you._

_And now, he's too busy reeling from your attack to continue blocking the way._

_"UURGH. OKAY._ OW. _THAT. THAT ACTUALLY HURT. A LOT. HOWEVER! SUCH A SUCKER-PUNCH IS BAD FORM, HUMAN! AND IT CHANGES NOTHING! YOU'RE STILL TOO WEAK TO CONTINUE, SO THE VICTORY IS STILL-HEY!"_

_By the time he regains his composure, finishes his speech, and notices that you're no longer in front of him, you've already gotten back to your feet and started running as fast as you can._

_"HUMAN!" His voice carries far across the distance you're praying you're putting between the two of you. He sounds insulted. "STOP RUNNING!!"_

_No. Never. If fighting is the only other alternative, then you'll never stop running. Not until you find a way to escape this place._ JUST LET ME LE-

_Your attentions were too focused on distancing yourself from the skeleton than to where you were distancing yourself to. The sound of rushing water fills your ears. Your foot steps hard against empty air. You're unable to catch yourself. You're staring down a dark pit where water disappears into. You're falling forward._

_This is it._

_This is the end._

_You're not escaping this place._

_This is where you're going to die-_

_Something catches you by the wrist. Briefly you remain suspended mid-fall before whatever has you tugs you back, away from certain demise. Your soles find purchase with solid ground. Shaken by the near-death experience, you turn to look at whatever or whoever had spared you a nasty fall._

_And you feel your blood run cold to see a familiar, seemingly immobile smile before you._

_"watch your step there, pal." The skeleton's tone is laid-back and carefree as he closes one eye socket in a wink. "ground's a little slippery 'round these parts. say, why were ya runnin' like that, anyway? thought you were supposed to be, y'know, engaged with my bro with whatever he was planning on doin' with y-"_

_A scream rises in your throat as you wrest your arm free from his skeletal grasp. You hold it close to your chest as you back away, your steps stumbling as you do._

_He stares after you, his would be brows creasing in curiosity. "uh. okay then." His face smooths out again as he sticks his hand back into his hoodie pocket. "if that's how you humans react after someone saves your life, then i'm not one to complai-"_

_He had begun walking toward you. Another scream rose in your throat as he did. You scramble backwards again, a weak feeling making itself known in your knees._

_His would be brows furrow again. "yeesh. jumpy, ain't'cha?" He removes his hands from his pockets, holds them up in a sign of peace. "i already told ya: i'm not interested in capturing humans. that's my bro's thing. now if you'll excuse me-" Another step forward. "-you've pulled me away from work long enough with that little-"_

_Another strangled scream. You lose your footing as you scramble backwards again, fall flat on your rear and meet a wall. If you hadn't been shaking before, you definitely are now._

_"e-easy, kid,_ easy _." He sounds off-put, uncomfortable with the situation. A coat of sweat coats his skull. "just tryin' to get back to my sentry station. i'm not...i'm not gonna hurt ya or anyth-"_

_"Leave me alone..."_

_The words echo back to you. They come from a strange blue flower you see out of your peripheral vision. Your voice, small and full of fear, whispers those words back to you over, and over, and over. A cruel mockery of the dire situation you've landed yourself in. Leave me alone leave me alone leave me alone leave me alone leave me alone..._

_The skeleton before you finally drops all pretenses of casual friendliness. He stares at you, his smile still present but lesser than before. The look in his sockets suggests worry, or at the very least confusion. "kid...why are you so scared?"_

_Your body becomes stiff with paralysis. Did...did he just say... No. No, he couldn't have. He didn't-_

_why are you so scared?_

_All color drains from your face as the strange blue flower denies your denial._

_why are you so scared why are you so scared why are you so scared_

No...

_why are you so scared why are you so scared why are you so scared_

No stop...

_why are you so scared why are you so scared why are you so scared_

Please...

_why are you so scared why are you so scared why are you so scared_

Stop please..!

_why are you so scared why are you so scared why are you so scared_

No no no no no no no no no no no!

_why_

_are_

_you_

_so_

_scared?_

_Too late. You can't stop it. The phrase continues. Its metronome-like cadence becoming the tuning fork that resonates with and awakens the deepest, darkest memories you've been so desperately keeping pushed back in the furthest recesses of your mind._

_The memories fate seems especially hell-bent on making sure you'll never escape._

"Why are you so scared? It's only me."

"Why are you so scared? It's not like this is anything new."

"Why are you so scared? You brought this upon yourself."

"Why are you so scared? Naughty children get punished; that's the rule."

"Now just shut up."

"Be quiet."

"Be still."

"Stop shaking."

"Stop struggling."

"It'll be done sooner if you'd stop resisting."

"Just let it happen."

"You deserve this."

"I t ' l l   a l l   b e   o v e r   s o o n ."

_It's like your body's developed a mind of its own while your main one becomes consumed by the past. Your arms hug the damp wall as you rise to your feet. They continue hugging it as you slowly, so very very slowly, inch away from the flower, from the triggering phrase, from him. You dare not take your eyes off of him as you move along the wall, along his sentry hut, out into empty space. Your back finds nothing to grab. You continue backing away._

_He keeps your gaze. His sockets show confusion, concern. His smile looks like it's dropping. "kid...?"_

_"SANS WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!!"_

_He turns toward the voice. His gaze is off of you. You immediately seize the opportunity. Without even the sound of your breath giving you away, you turn and run deeper into the cavern beyond._

_Run. Just run. Run and find somewhere to hide. Don't let them find you. Who knows what they'll do to you if they find you. They'll...they'll hurt you. Don't let them find y-_

_You just barely acknowledge the boulder right before it comes within kissing distance. A sharp turn affords you clearance of the falling rock, but makes you fall flat on your face into ankle-deep water. Your head snaps up immediately, your somewhat blurred vision alerting you to the fact that several more boulders are coming your way._

_Is that just the sound of rushing water filling your ears, or is someone coming from where you just ran from?_

_Hide. Gotta hide. Maybe the waterfall can provide you proper cover. You rush to it, your waterlogged footsteps noisily betraying your attempt at stealth. You hold your arms out and your palms meet a wall behind the cascading water. There's not even enough room to completely envelop your hands._

_The sound you can only assume is approaching footsteps grows louder._

_Panic drives you to helplessly search the wall for something - anything - to provide you solace. Your hands continue roaming until you nearly fall on your face again because of the lack of support. An opening. A cave. A hiding place._

_The sound gets louder as you make yourself scarce behind the cascading water._

_Two clusters of aqua-blue mushrooms exuding a strange bio-luminescent glow are the only sources of light in this tiny alcove. Something pink and dusty sits between these clusters of light. But you couldn't care less about that; that sound from before is definitely footsteps. They're coming closer. You tuck yourself away in a dark corner just outside the mushroom light's radius, make yourself as tiny and unnoticeable as you possibly can. Don't let them find you..._

_A conversation reaches you beyond the rushing water behind which you hide._

_"...SURE THE HUMAN WENT THIS WAY?"_

_"'s the only way they could've gone."_

_"CURSES! FIRST THEY ABANDON OUR BATTLE, JUST WHEN I HAD CLAIMED VICTORY, AND NOW THEY SEEMED TO HAVE VANISHED! FATE IS...IS VERY CRUEL..."_

_"...what's with that face, bro? and why're you trembling like that?"_

_"I...I JUST... SANS, THE HUMAN THEY-THEY LOOKED SO...SO_ FRIGHTENED _OF ME."_

_"..."_

_"I'VE NEVER HAD ANYONE LOOK UPON ME WITH SUCH FEAR BEFORE. IT'S...IT'S A NEW EXPERIENCE. I DON'T...I DON'T LIKE IT..."_

_"..."_

_"...I SUPPOSE I...I'LL HAVE TO GIVE UP PURSUIT. UNDYNE'S EXPECTING ME ANY MINUTE FOR MY REPORT."_

_"yeah...don't wanna keep her waitin', right?"_

_"...SANS?"_

_"yeah?"_

_"YOU KNOW I MUST REMAIN NEAR MY SENTRY POST IN SNOWDIN, BUT I KNOW YOU'VE OTHER SENTRY POSTS THROUGHOUT THE UNDERGROUND."_

_"what about 'em?"_

_"...IF...IF THE HUMAN HAPPENS UPON YOU WHEN YOUR AT ONE OF YOUR OTHER STATIONS, COULD YOU PASS ALONG A MESSAGE?"_

_"i guess i could try to do that. what's the message?"_

_"TELL THEM...I APOLOGIZE FOR FRIGHTENING THEM SO. I DID NOT MEAN TO MAKE THEM SO AFRAID OF ME... WILL YOU TELL THE HUMAN THAT, SANS?"_

_"...i'll try to."_

_"THANK YOU. NOW. OFF I GO TO TELL UNDYNE OF MY FAILURE IN CAPTURING THE HUMAN..."_

_Ever since the conversation started, ever since you hid yourself away, ever since you ran from the skeleton, ever since that phrase was spoken and cruelly repeated to you, you wanted nothing more than to scream. To let loose all the horror and fear building and swirling and poisoning inside you._

_But you can't. You just can't. No matter how much you want to, how much you_ need _to, you absolutely cannot let out anything louder than a shallow breath._

_Your hands are gripping your arms so tightly you’re on the verge of tearing your sleeves off. That weak feeling in your knees intensifies. Your entire body convulses with shudders. Your head's turned down low, your shoulders hunched over. Your face is clammy with cold sweat. You start to feel queasy. You bite down on your already swollen tongue to keep yourself silent, to keep yourself obscure from those who've lied to you, who've hurt you, who've proven they're exactly like the people you cast yourself down into this underground world to escape from._

_Don't yell. Don't scream. Don't give away your hiding place. Don't move. Don't let them find you. Don't let them find you. Don't let them find you..._

_The sound of footsteps walking away have long since faded away, yet you remain where you hide outside the edge of the mushrooms' light. Pushing back the memories. Pulling yourself back together. Composing yourself. Coming to a grim, grim conclusion._

_This place is just as horrible as the place you ran from. The residents just as cruel and deceptive as the people you ran from. There's no one here you can trust. No one here that'll offer you real kindness, real mercy. You swore to yourself that you'd never return to the place you ran from._

_Now, you must escape its twin._

_You force your tremors to calm. You force your hands to release your arms. You force yourself to stand. You force your face to wear its mask of total neutrality. You force yourself to walk. You snatch up the dusty tutu laying abandoned between the mushroom clusters. You don your new disguise. You turn and walk away._

_Don't let them know you're scared._

_Don't let them know you're afraid._

_D o n ' t   t r u s t   t h e m ._

_You exit the hidden alcove behind the waterfall. You find yourself blissfully alone. You turn and walk toward a patch of tall grass that looks like seaweed._

_Though a feeling of dread still hangs over you, somehow, you stay determined._

I'm fine.

 

\----

**D̛̝̞̘͕̥̻̗͙̩͡A̧͕̪̞̻̥̯̥͈̯R̙̝̜̤͓K̼̱͍͘͢͢ ̠̕D̵̜̘̪̝͓͖̰̬͟A͔̤͘R̵͔̮̭̪̞̳͘K͈͉̪̞̯̼̝È̡̯R͚͔̦̙̹̠͘ ̢͍̱̯̩̖̹̭̥͞Y̥͇͜Ȩ̠̀T̮̻͇͙̭͎̦́͢͞ ̳̼̙̤̠̟͞Ḑ̸̫͎͜A̮̭͇̹͇̥̫R̭̯̪̫͡ͅK̸͈̟͈̳͙̳̻Ḙ͚͓̳̫̘͔̖͡R̸̡̮̦̩̙̺͇ͅ**

Medical cleanliness.

**T̷̼͝͞H͖̱̳̤̭̣̲͍Ę̙̱͈̙̰ ͙̫̥̟̱̳͚͝D̨̯͉̝̗̟͔͉͡A̩͜R̖̞͘Ḳ̷͍͍͙́N̰̝̪̹E͏̡̜̯͈̹̗S̼̯͓̰ͅS̶̥̼̫͢ ͏҉̞͎͕͟K̫̳͔̻͙͞E̸͏͍̞E̯͖̼͎̘͈ͅP̜̯͞S̶̢̛͈̙̟͇̻̗ ̗͔̳̫̰̀͝ͅG̢̡͙̟͇̝̞̮̗͍R̵̠̦̫͈͈͇̞ͅO̰͙̮̰͚̜͚̪͟W̻̰͚̘̭̺͈Į̵̮̫͍̻̀Ņ̸̞̲͈̬̭̹̮͡G̢̻̻̤̠͜͠**

The smell of chemicals.

**Ț̬͙̲̠̼̟͜ͅH͞҉͕̱̩̲̖͟E̻̕ ͍̭̙̣̜́ͅS̸̹̫͎̻̟ͅH̛̞̥̳̰̥͘ͅͅĄ̝̯̞̤͖̼̫D̥̗̱͍̰͕̀͜O̶̗̩̝̬̬̕W̴̦̼̫̳S̰̤̳̱ ͏̢̮̫͝C̨̱̖U͞҉̺͖͖̭̻͍̪̝͇͢T̲͓͍͙̤͉̲T̪̫͈̤̩I̷̬̩͖̻̞͓̪̞͟N̨͙̲̩̜̱̫͈̼͜ͅG̴̡̖̤̞̦̤͔ ̤̪̫̙̭̦ͅḌ̵͙̖̠͉̝̜̮͡E̘̦̝͙̝͚E͞҉̰̥̭̱̺͖͍̙̕P̴̬̰̟͙̟̮̞Ḛ̢̪̳̗̙̩̰͎Ŕ̻̞̹͚̳̩**

Machinery of unknown purposes.

**P̨̢̤͍̭̠͔̖ͅH͏̠͙O̷̧̯͇̼̭ͅT̷̜͔̰͔͓̥̳Ơ̬͙͔̹͢ͅN̸̛͍̥ ̵̡̫̜̪̳̣ͅR̯͚͓̗̝̗͎E҉͎̻̳̺̖͇̩̩A̷͖͞D͏̸̣͎̗̞̳̹̥I̺̯̙̳̦̮͝N͓̳͚͜͞G̳̫̬̙̗̥S͓̜̥͕̩̥͟͜͠ ̝N̴̷̻͚͜E҉͎̬̫̫G͏̧̡͙̰À̟͡ͅT̛̲͈͓̰͉ͅI҉̠̯́͢V̡̘̥̞̠͝E̫͎̝͕ͅ**

Colored lights inside jars.

**T͟͏͙͔H̹̥̻̠̖̲̦̟I̘̘̹̰͠S̷҉̝̲̯̮͉̖̞͚ ͏̬̞̳̼͝ͅN̝͓̱̜̹̥̤̹̩Ẹ̘̭X̡̪̕T̜͖̳̝ ̶̦͇̭͎̭̤͈̘E͓̪͡ͅX̨̞̬̠͉̖̤P̡͔̰͙͍͜E͔̤̮̫̦R̪̮̱̘͘I̭͕̼͓̗̦M̰̬͚̻̮͓͍̤͢͝Ẹ̗͈͔̩͔̙̕͝N̡̡̯̙͘T̸͓͎̬̜**

**S̵͉̼͙̜̖E̝̪̺͕̙ͅÈ̢͎̬̫̬͎͟ͅM҉̪̳̘̹̪͕̮S̴̢̜͓̞̣̘͓**

**V́͏̺̹̮̠̟̲̝͖E̺͙͈̻͙R̸̡̲̦̩̼Y̫͎̕͢**

**V̢̩̕E̢̮̬̠͔̪̤͢R͙̝̤̺͓̕Ỳ̺̗̬̙**

**I̸̥̼̤͟N̨͔T̫͍͓̤̭̖̹͉͝E̵͉̱̥͉͓̳͉͙͝R̶̠̙̰̯͎̞͜E̴̡̥͕͟S̜̠̥̰̱͓̠T̴̸̝͈Í̷̦͎͉̻̲̳͙̞N̖̺̰̺̹̣̱̖̠͞͠G̢͓͇̺̰͓̘̯̜ͅ**

A tall figure cloaked in a lab coat.

**.̴͍͎̮̥̭͉̲̠̮.̴̡̨̣͖.̷̛̹̻̮**

An unfathomable, familiar smile.

**W͏͚̞̤̰̝̭̣H̷̸̛͔A̶͖̫̳̝̞͖͕͢T̨̢̫͚̼͓̬̗̬ ҉̨͎̞͙D̯̺̭̟̕͡Ó̟̺ ̛̹͎̜͘ͅY͙͙̹O̮̖̯̥̳͟U̢̝̠̙͉̘̰ ͍̘̦T̯̹͈̰W͏͏̮O͙̯͟ ̱̤̬̕T̢̛̩̭̟̣͉̠͞H̰̹̪̬̭̻̩̯ͅI̦̳̤N̖̥̥̕K̨͉͡?̙̦͉́͟ͅ**

 

\----

Swift, void-like darkness. Robbed of all feeling of time, of space, of reality, of existence, of self. Nowhere. No one. Nothing.

Then.

_CRASH CRUNCH CRUNCH SNAP CRACK CRACK CRACK SNap creeeeeeaaaaaak_

"...UUUUUUHHHHH...."

Darkness first, then clarity. But it was an imperfect clarity. The world was spinning. Colors bled together. Formless shapes quivered like flames and melted into each other. Papyrus was reeling from the disorienting sight. He was starting to feel sick to his non-existent stomach.

It was impossible to tell how long it took before everything calmed. Before the world became less chaotic, before everything fell into its rightful place, before Papyrus regained any semblance of reality.

He found himself with his head turned down, sockets staring at a deep, dark abyss. Feeling abnormally weak and tired, he lifted his head so he could get a better gander at the situation he had landed in.

That last statement proved to be more than an idiom, as he was soon came to realize. All appearances pointed to the very real possibility that he had been dropped from a great height and crash-landed into a tall, barren tree. More than just the one, though; there were several tall, barren trees closely-knit together, yet uniformly spaced apart. Looked as though he had barreled through several of the other trees before stopping. His limbs were entangled among stronger, sturdier branches than the ones he'd apparently plowed through before hand. He was stuck.

And, by all appearances, so was the figure he soon spotted a small distance up and in front of him.

"S-SANS?" Finding strength in his arms, he reached the hand closest to his brother out, and was just close enough to clutch the end of his jacket sleeve. " _SANS_??"

Sans did not initially react to his brother calling his name. His skull was downward turned, his whole body hanging limp from the branches he was nestled in. His mouth formed an emotionless line. Beads of what gave the appearance of sweat coated his skull. His sockets were full of pitch-black emptiness. He gave off the distinct vibe that he was so lost in his thoughts that he was no longer aware of anything besides what was going on inside his head.

With his brother's coaxing, however, the smaller skeleton was roused from his thoughts. He winced. The corners of his mouth twitched. Light returned to his sockets. But even with these changes, he looked as lost and disoriented as Papyrus had been when he first came to. Another incalculable amount of time passed before Sans, too, regained any semblance of reality, before he met the gaze of the one who had called his name.

"p...papyrus...?" He sounded more lost than he looked. With a good amount of effort, he took hold of the hand tugging at his sleeve. "a-are you okay?"

"I-I BELIEVE SO," Papyrus answered after a quick test of his extremities. Everything moved as it should, and nothing protested in pain. "ARE _YOU_ OKAY?"

"y-yeah, i think so," Sans replied after a quick test of his extremities. Everything moved as it should, and nothing protested in pain. "j-just a little...out on a limb, heh..."

His ill attempt of humor fell flat. It did nothing to change the mood, nor to relieve the worry that was apparent on both brothers' faces.

"SANS..." Papyrus' grip tightened around his brother's hand in fear. "WHAT HAPPENED?"

Seeing his brother so freaked-out and afraid was jarring to Sans; it made him feel even more freaked-out and afraid than he was letting on. "i d-don't know," he stated, then added when Papyrus frowned at him, "pap i swear i don't know. when i try to think about it..."

His face screwed up into a pained grimace. The hand not holding his brother's reached up to and clutched at his head. "when i try to think about it, all i get is-"

"STATIC?"

Sans stared back at his brother. "y-yeah. static. white noise. nothing."

Papyrus' free hand clutched at his skull. He also looked to be in pain. "I-IT SEEMS WE ARE EXPERIENCING THE SAME PHENOMENON OF AMNESIA, BROTHER. I ALSO CANNOT REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENED..."

The brothers remained that way for a spell, taking both comfort and worry that neither of them knew more than the other about the events preceding this outcome.

"...more than that-" The creaking of tree limbs under a considerable weight made Sans wary enough to point out a question that would be easier to answer. "-where are we?"

They were obviously stuck in a cluster of trees; that much was ascertainable right off the bat. It was also easily judged that they were somewhere cold. Their clothes were stiff with frost, and from each of their respective viewpoints, Sans and Papyrus could see snow. More than snow, though. From Sans' position, when he looked out beyond his brother, he could see a structure that looked like a doghouse. And from Papyrus', when he looked out beyond his brother, he could see figures made out of snow sitting on a rocky outcrop.

Sans recognized that doghouse. It was the sentry outpost where Greater Dog was once stationed.

Papyrus recognized those snowy figures. One was of himself posing heroically, and the other was merely a lump with his brother's name written on it in red marker.

The skeletons simultaneously came to the same startling realization. "WE'RE-"

"-underground."

It was the forest just outside Snowdin. Sans could just barely make out the outline of the sign welcoming travelers to the town in the distance, past the rock formation that'd been painted over to look like a rope bridge. Papyrus could make out his final tile puzzle, already solved, just past the trees, and he figured out that he and his brother were entangled in the branches of the cluster of trees that formed the tunnel where those who traversed it would come out the other side with mysterious snow poffs atop their heads.

Needless to say, realizing where they were only made their fears and panic worsen. "WHY ARE WE UP HERE?!" Papyrus demanded as he adjusted his position, trying to get himself upright while keeping himself secure on his precariously high perch. "H-HOW DID WE GET HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE!? WE DIDN'T- THIS WASN'T- OH. OH GOD. TH-THIS..."

He looked back to his brother, his expression equal parts alarmed and horrified. "THIS ISN'T...A RESET, IS IT?"

"no." Sans' answer was immediate, spoken with the absolute surety that comes with untold experience. "we didn't get reseted."

Papyrus still looked unsure.

Sans kept his brother's gaze as he cautiously adjusted himself on his perch. "for starters, i know we didn't get reseted because you're asking if we did. you've never asked before." Guilt briefly flashed across Papyrus' expression. "and another thing. the reset - for us - would always begin in our place in snowdin. when you'd be pounding at my door yelling about how lazy i am. we wouldn't be, y'know, up here."

The skeletons cast wary glances at the seemingly bottomless darkness beneath them, and made themselves a little more friendly with the branches entangling them.

"SANS-" Papyrus looked back to his brother, hints of suspicion in his voice and expression. "-THIS ISN'T THE RESULT OF ONE OF YOUR 'SHORTCUTS', IS IT?"

Sans almost looked offended. "no. no way. this wasn't me." His skull shook side to side with enough force to make the branches supporting him creak. "i might not remember what happened to make us end up here, but i'd definitely know if i used a shortcut. this wasn't my doing, i swear."

Papyrus appeared convinced enough. Wood creaked beneath him as he nervously shifted his weight.

Sans tried to give his brother a reassuring grin. "another reason i know this isn't a reset: there's never gonna be another one, remember? frisk can't-"

Both brothers' faces simultaneously turned gaunt. The word acted like a trigger, made the memories flood back.

Static.

Sleep-walking.

Storm.

Staring contest.

Darkness.

A face.

That face.

That unfathomable, somehow familiar smile.

One that did not belong to the child it had appeared on before everything went dark.

" _frisk._ "

Alarm and panic rose within them. Wood creaked dangerously as they frantically looked around them. "where's-?"

_snap_

The sound made the brothers freeze. Had one of the branches supporting one of them given way? No. No, that sound was too far away. It came from above where they were ensnared, higher in the treetops. They turned toward the sound-

Their skulls barely moved a centimeter before something rushed past the sides of their faces. They immediately turned their skulls that way, caught a fleeting glimpse of the broken end of a thin branch before it disappeared from their views. Before-

It happened in the split second after the branch left their line of sight. Something larger followed almost instantly after it. Something recognizable. A face passed by in front of theirs. Expressionless due to deep, dreamless sleep, not a sound came from the slightly parted mouth.

Then, the small, thin body belonging to that face continued its head-first plummet into the dark abyss waiting below.

" _FRIIIIISK!!!_ "

Papyrus and Sans' arms both shot out toward the child. Frisk's limp body just barely fell short of Papyrus' long reach. He was unable to catch them. Sans' outstretched hand became wreathed in blue flames, the same blue flames that enveloped his left eye socket and soon after enveloped the plummeting human. Frisk came to a statuesque stillness mid-air several meters beneath where the skeletons were entangled in the trees, but still a good distance away from the maw of darkness the snapped branch had already disappeared into. They were safe.

But this was only momentary.

It wasn't for lack of concentration that his grip started slipping; he was so intensely focused on stopping their free-fall sparks of yellow danced in his blue flames. A rare occurrence. Neither was it from a lack of energy, magic or otherwise. He had no idea what it was. But, for whatever reason, the force keeping their limp body airborne faltered, wavered, made them drop feet through the cold air with each dip. _what??_

All too soon, quite unforgivingly so, Sans' magic could no longer find any purchase.

Frisk resumed plunging towards certain death.

A scream rose in Sans' throat.

A symphony of snapping branches interrupted it before it could be loosed.

Sans turned his skull and saw a blur of orange and white.

Papyrus had broken free of his branch-y bonds, was now rocketing toward the ragdoll limp body free-falling beneath him.

The tall, lanky skeleton kept his body stiff and straight as an arrow, reducing air resistance so the distance between himself and Frisk could be closed more swiftly. He kept his arms outstretched both to steer himself and to be ready to catch Frisk. Closer and closer, they were between his palms before he grasped them, pulled them to his chest, made a sharp mid-air turn.

With a loud _CRUNCH_ , the back of his chest plate collided into the rocky outcrop his and Sans' snow figures were. He slid straight through them, completely dismantled them. He was running out of snow-covered ground to skid to a halt along. Keeping Frisk secure in one arm, he turned and shot the other out to his side. A thick, white bone materialized in his grasp. He clung tightly to it, and used all his might to plunge it as deeply into the ground as he could. His velocity lessened, he slowed down. The ground disappeared beneath his boots, his shins, his knees, his femurs. And just when his pelvis was about to join his legs in dangling off the edge, he finally came to a full halt.

Despite the gravity of the entire situation, he allowed himself a prideful 'NYEH'. For in that moment, every ounce of royal guard training Undyne had given him had paid off.

Sans watched his brother's heroics from afar. Pride briefly overcame him to see Undyne's training paying off so effectively. Then he busied himself with also breaking free of his branch-y bonds, though he'd definitely not be following his brother's example.

He knew where he wanted to go. He could visualize himself standing there. He could see his destination, both in his physical sockets and in his mind's eye. Such an easy 'shortcut'. He focused his energies on making himself appear near the remains of snow-Papyrus and his lump-

-and ended up knee-deep in a snow poff in front of Greater Dog's doghouse.

He stifled a surprised yelp as he freed himself of the lump of snow, reduced it to smaller, indefinite lumps of snow upon his escape. Sweat coated his skull like morning dew. _what the hell's going on???_

"SANS?! WHERE'D YOU GO?!?"

Papyrus' voice carried far across the gap between the two skeletons. He sounded frightened. "i-i'll be right there, pap!" Sans called back. "just, uh, took a wrong turn, that's all!"

That was the truth, yet it wasn't. Unsure of what went wrong, daring not to try another 'shortcut', Sans turned and headed for the tree-lined tunnel spanning the distance between his location and Papyrus'. He slid along the ice through the tunnel, came out the other side, ignored the mysteriously accumulated snow poff atop his skull that came with him, stopped a moment to direction himself towards the ledge, pushed off and slid some more. The drop wasn't that great, but Sans still had to be careful with the landing. With little grace, he landed in the snow, then trod through the remains of snow-Papyrus and his lump.

"you okay, pap?" he asked as he approached his brother, who sat cross-legged near the ledge he had almost fallen off of. "that was a pretty nasty fall, even if you stuck the landing."

"I'LL BE ALRIGHT," Papyrus assured, hints of worry in his tone. "BUT, SANS, THEY'RE...THEY'RE NOT..."

Sans' attention focused on the human laying cradled in his brother's arms, and he instantly understood the basis of Papyrus' worried tone.

The only comfort he could take in this situation was that they were no longer sporting the strange 'mask' he had seen upon their face before the darkness snatched the three of them. Frisk's body was still ragdoll limp. Their clothes and hair were frozen stiff; the outcome of suddenly being exposed to the cold air of Snowdin after becoming completely drenched by rainwater. Their skin had become so very pale, tinted blue with hypothermia. Their eyes were closed, their face expressionless. They looked to be asleep.

They were not breathing.

"f-frisk? _frisk_??" Alarmed, Sans dropped to his knees and took Frisk's shoulders, shook them firmly. "c'mon, buddy, wake up!"

"THIS IS A MOST INAPPROPRIATE TIME TO SLEEP, FRISK!" Papyrus added, and earnestly bounced them in his hold. "YOU MUST WAKE UP NOW!!"

It didn't take as much anxious coaxing as the brothers anticipated to get a reaction from the child. Their eyelids silently slid open, and the skeletons immediately stopped bouncing and shaking. Their eyes were glossy and unfocused; they looked like the eyes of someone who was still half asleep, or the eyes of someone who was seeing something other that what was in front of them. They were still not breathing.

The skeletons watched in anxious silence as Frisk's eyes continued emptily staring forward. Then they wandered, looked back and forth yet remained glossy and unfocused. Their head rolled to the side, cast their gaze out past the ledge Papyrus sat near, out into the dark abyss waiting below.

Their eyes finally regained clarity. And widened in alarm.

A scream rose in their throat as they threw themself back, tried to distance themself from the abysmal maw. They found themself further retreating into Papyrus' embrace, their hands finding and tightly clinging to the stiff-with-frost cape around his neck. Their body began to violently shudder, their hyperventilating breaths rapidly pushing clouds of steam into the cold air that finally registered on their skin.

Papyrus strengthened his embrace, scooted backwards for good measure so they'd be further away from the darkness they couldn't seem to tear their eyes away from. "I-IT'S ALRIGHT, FRISK, I'VE GOT YOU. I'VE GOT YOU..."

Sans found himself choked with silence as Frisk finally took notice of Papyrus' presence, of his presence. Teeth clattering behind their blue lips, they looked between each of their faces, then Frisk looked around the snowy landscape the trio found themselves in. They decided to rest their intuitive, fearful gaze on Sans' face, and it was obvious that they were searching his expression for something. He searched, too. Because he understood little about their situation and how they ended up in it.

And, most of all, he searched their expression to see if he could find the answer to a question burning a hole in his mind: How aware were they about their own situation?

Slowly, their tremors lessened. Their breathing evened. Their hands released Papyrus' cape. Their gaze turned from Sans' to their palms. They stared at them like they weren't their own. One moved to their face, the other soon followed suit. The first made the fingertips form a vertical line that extended from their forehead down to just above their right eye. The second touched the fingertips to just below the left, all the way to their upper lip.

Sans had is answer as tears welled up, then slid down Frisk's cheeks.

"What... _what's happening to me?_ "


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listening recommendation: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Z-BV8zncAM  
> another further into the chapter

_Many firsts were experienced during the road trip Frisk, Sans, and Papyrus went on._

_Such as the first time they had visited an observatory and got a taste of how utterly big the universe is. Papyrus had to practically drag Sans away from the massive telescope there, and only the promise that they would return tomorrow kept the shorter skeleton placated._

_For the first time, they had gone to an amusement park, and they learned how prejudice the world can be for the vertically-impaired. There were a few rides Sans and Frisk were just tall enough to ride on with Papyrus, some that neither of them were tall enough for, and a couple where only Sans just reached the height requirement. Rather than leave Frisk alone for those ones, though, Sans made it up to them by winning the kid a bunch of goodies at various prize booths. And though he denied it, Frisk had the sneaking suspicion that he had been cheating._

_For the first time, they had seen the ocean. Papyrus had learned how to work with sand to create a sand-Papyrus, and Frisk had crafted their very first sand castle with the taller skeleton's help. Sans had contented himself with lounging about all day and 'working on his tanline' as he so brazenly put it. Even though skeletons didn't have skin, by the time they packed up and turned in for the day, Sans did seem to practically glow from the sun beams he soaked up throughout the day._

_For the first time, they had learned the importance of making sure everyone was in the car before getting back on the road._ tori's gonna kill me _was the main thought running through Sans' head as Papyrus sped back to the gas station they had apparently left Frisk behind at. Sans had always been one to keep a level-head in times of panic (or at the very least hide his anxiousness), but that had been the first time both he and Papyrus equally expressed their panic in returning to who they - or more accurately_ he _\- had left behind. Frisk had greeted them cheerfully, as if the brothers were picking them up from school. Frisk got to ride shotgun for the rest of the day while Sans sulked in the back seat; punishment for forgetting that he was the one who was supposed to be keeping an eyesocket on them._

_Yes. A lot of firsts were experienced during the trio's road trip._

_Including the first time the three of them stayed at a motel._

_It was easy to see why the place was called the Sunset Motel. It was modeled and constructed in a way that those staying the night would be able to look out their room's window, and see the sun setting far out across the ocean. This had been another first for the road-tripping trio: watching the sun set over the vast horizon that felt like it stretched out to forever. Sans and Papyrus sat side by side on the hood of Papyrus' red convertible with Frisk nestled between them as they watched this sun slowly sink into the waves. No words needed to be spoken as they sat and watched, and it wasn't until Frisk's cell phone received a video call from Toriel that the trio broke out of the trance-like state the beautiful sunset had lulled them into._

rustle rustle

_Toriel had many rules implemented that made her okay with allowing her child to travel so far from home with the skeleton brothers. Among these rules was one that stated clearly that she would call every evening for a status report. Not only to know what kind of fun adventures they all had been on for the day, but to also make sure the brothers were being responsible and properly watching over her child (especially after she found out about Sans' oversight at the gas station). When she called that evening, Frisk excitedly told her about their day. In which they and Papyrus buried Sans in the sand ('they turned me into a sans-wich, tori,' Sans confirmed, winking as Frisk giggled and Papyrus rolled his sockets), they all found out that skeletons can't float (water wings and floaties were involved afterwards), and Sans learned the hard way the subtle difference between ketchup and hot sauce bottles (he could still feel it burning, even after hours had passed since he chugged half the bottle)._

rustle rustle

_Satisfied with the report, and after Frisk turned the phone around so she could see the sunset they were watching together, Toriel hung up, but not before reminding the trio of another of her rules: to make sure Frisk would get to bed at a reasonable hour. Even though it was summer break, they were still a child and needed proper rest. In other words: no staying up 'til the wee hours of the morning. Of course, that didn't mean Toriel's phone call meant that they had to stop having fun for the day._

rustle rustle

_The three retired to their motel room after watching the sunset, and could've sworn they saw a flash of green as the last of the sun disappeared fully beyond the waves. Each took turns in the shower to clean themselves of sand and ocean water, then settled down to watch some TV. There was a brief scuffle over who would wield the remote, which ended with the remote getting lost between one of the beds and a wall. Frisk volunteered to feel around for it. Sans commented that 'frisk was getting frisky'. Papyrus, in annoyance, threw a pillow at his brother's face. Sans threw it back. The two skeletons volleyed pillows at each other until Frisk's head popped up over the edge of the mattress, remote in hand, and they got a face full of cotton. No one owned up to it, though Sans and Papyrus were quick to point fingers at each other. So, of course, the only logical conclusion Frisk resorted to was to grab two pillows and throw them at both skeletons._

rustle rustle

_The resulting pillow fight was unfair, to say the least. It had started as a free-for-all, but when Sans started employing the use of his magic ("wow you two are terrible at this," he nonchalantly commented from where he laid on one of the beds as both Frisk and Papyrus got face-fulls of pillow), it was clear what Frisk and Papyrus had to do. They looked to each other, nodded, and with several pillows at hand, ran and leapt onto the bed, screeching war cries. "oh sh-" was all Sans was able to get out before they landed on top of him with such force, all three rebounded off the bed and landed in a tangled heap of pillows and limbs on the floor. "NO MERCY!" Frisk and Papyrus then simultaneously announced before assaulting the shorter skeleton with their tickling fingers._

rustle rustle

_The following laughter that came from all three siblings was so joyous and unrestrained, the only reason they got away with being so loud was that their room had no immediate neighbors. Like all good things, their shared laughter ended when Frisk's slowly morphed into deep, sleepy yawns. They were put to bed, even though they tiredly protested that they weren't tired. The fact that they went out like a light the instant after they were tucked in proved otherwise._

rustle rustle

_Papyrus himself was tucked into the other bed, and he went out like a light after Sans finished reading Fluffy Bunny to him. And he remained asleep for long after that, well into the night, slept like a brick._

rustle rustle

_Yep. Out like a light._

rustle rustle creeeak

_Totally asleep._

shift rustle creak rustle rustle

_Not at all perturbed by the noises of shifting weight on the mattress beside his-_

THUD

_Papyrus, fully awake, snapped his eye sockets wide open. Any irritation he'd felt before from the sleep-disturbing sounds was gone the instant he heard that last one. He sat up quickly, spent a still moment to let himself recover from the rush of vertigo, then turned his skull toward the now vacant bed beside his._

_Quiet, almost inaudible moans reached his ears._

_"FRISK?" He flung his blanket off and swung his legs over the edge of the mattress. "ARE YOU ALRIGHT?"_

_More shifting. More moaning. Both louder, more pronounced than before._

_"FALLING OUT OF BED IS NOT FUN." The floor creaked beneath his feet as he rose to them. "I SHOULD KNOW. IT HAS HAPPENED TO ME PLENTY A TIME-"_

_The bed suddenly lurched toward Papyrus. He froze. It only moved an inch or so. Definitely not enough to trap him in the space between the two beds. The shifting grew more pronounced. He could pick out words in the moaning coming from the other side of the bed._

_"No...no..."_

_He darted around to the other side of the bed without a second thought. "FRI-"_

_He froze once again._

_Frisk lay sprawled out on the floor. They did not lay still. They twitched and convulsed and wriggled like a worm on a hook. Their pajamas and hair were damp with sweat. They had taken their blanket with them when they tumbled onto the floor; they were still wrapped up in it. That was putting it lightly. It was as if the bed sheet had become sentient and was actively trying to strangle the child, like a boa constrictor. Their breaths came out in mangled moans._

_"No...no..."_

_Papyrus remained frozen a moment longer. He bent down low and close to the tossing and turning child, said in a strong, gentle voice, "FRISK...WAKE UP."_

_"No...please no..."_

_"YOU'RE HAVING A NIGHTMARE." Despite his brave bravado, discomfort was in his sockets. "WAKE UP."_

_"Stop...please..."_

_With care, he worked to free Frisk from the constricting blanket. "C-C'MON, FRISK! IT'S TIME TO WAKE UP N-"_

_"No!!"_

_His hand only just faintly brushed against their neck. They bolted into an upright position. Papyrus had to quickly back off before their skulls collided. He landed on his backside, and watched with wide sockets as Frisk doubled over, convulsions turned into thrashes, moans turn into yells._

_"No!! Please stop!!" Hands futility grasped at empty air. Feet kicked at nothing with enough force to knock someone out cold. Their body twisted and turned and writhed and banged against the hard floor. "Stop it please!!"_

_Papyrus had thought before that words alone would've been enough to awaken them. It was clear now that a more 'hands-on' approach was necessary._

_"FRISK! WAKE UP!" He had to get creative to dodge their flailing limbs as he tried to get close. "YOU MUST WAKE UP!!"_

_"Leave them alone!!" They managed to kick and flail the strangling blanket off of them, but those same kicks and flails kept Papyrus from getting close. "Don't hurt them_ please _!!"_

_"IT'S NOT REAL!" Finally, he managed to grab hold of one of their wrists. "IT IS ONLY A DREAM! OPEN YOUR EYES AND-OOF!"_

_A kick to his sternum sent the skeleton back, made him relinquish his hold on the child's wrist. Frisk flung backwards. Their back rammed into a small end table with a lamp on top of it. The lamp fell to the floor with a clatter. Frisk continued to writhe and spasm like a fish out of water._

_"FRISK_ STOP _!"_

_He did it without thinking. Instinct alone dictated his next action. His arm shot out. A split second later, the child's writhing body slammed into the floor and became still, burdened by the heavy weight their soul had suddenly become._

_Papyrus went stiff with shock. What had he done? "O-OH GOD..."_

_"papyrus?"_

_He didn't realize the front door had been opened until after he heard his name. He looked over his shoulder - the only form of movement he could manage at this point - to see Sans returning from his nightly stroll. One that he was supposed to return from relaxed, but when he entered the room, any relaxation he gained from the walk had been replaced with confusion._

_"pap, what's going on?" Sans questioned, his tone as confused as his expression. "i heard yelling and-pap oh my god what are you doing??"_

_Papyrus stared at his brother in helpless dismay, tears flowing down his cheekbones. "I-I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT ELSE TO DO! THEY WERE YELLING AND THRASHING ABOUT AND I COULDN'T KEEP THEM STILL OR WAKE THEM! TH-THEY WERE GOING TO HURT THEMSELF! I ONLY WANTED TO-"_

_Many firsts were experienced during the road trip Frisk, Sans, and Papyrus went on. Especially for that night._

_It was the night that Papyrus first witnessed Frisk experiencing a terrible nightmare._

_It was the night that Papyrus had first used his magic on Frisk (at least since leaving the Underground)._

_It was the night that Sans first saw his brother in a state of genuine distress and fear._

_It was also the night that, for the first time...the brothers heard Frisk scream._

_"No..."_

_They were doubled over on the floor, their torso pressing down against their bent legs. They were trembling like a leaf._

_"No...!"_

_Shaking hands grasped their head, tugged at clumps of brown hair. Fingernails dug deeply into their scalp._

_"_ No...! _"_

_A skeletal hand hesitantly twitched towards them, its owner otherwise at a complete loss. "frisk-?"_

_"_ NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! _"_

_The word erupted out of their mouth like a burst of a foghorn as their back arched, throwing their head back so it faced the ceiling. It continued, devolving into incoherent shrieking as it did. Strain creased their features as the gravity-increasing magic around them pulled them toward the ground._

_The thrashing resumed. Such force was used that the back of their head slammed into the wall hard enough to leave an indent in the plaster. Papyrus' magic kept slamming them back down to earth after each thrash, which in turn only made them thrash even more. It was like some twisted version of tug-o-war. One neither skeleton could tear their sockets away from. Frisk would not stop screaming._

_"...let 'em go."_

_Sans' command was barely perceivable through the din of Frisk's screams. Papyrus still heard it. He did not obey. He did not even move. He was helplessly hypnotized by the suffering the poor child before him was so obviously enduring. Frisk would not stop screaming. "papyrus let them go-!"_

_The next sequence of events happened one after the other very swiftly, like falling dominoes. Sans grabbed Papyrus' arm, pulled him back. Papyrus relinquished his magical grip. Frisk lurched. Unhindered, they flung sideways. Their right temple and the corner of the window sill met with a sharp bang. Their screams were cut short. They collapsed to the floor. They became very, very still._

_"...FRISK?"_

_No response._

_"k-kiddo?"_

_No response._

_"OH NO...OH PLEASE NO..!"_

_Wracked with fear and guilt and untold sadness, Papyrus lunged for the small, still body lying across the floor. He caught them by the shoulders, lifted them up, held them in front of his face. "FRISK PLEASE WAKE UP-"_

_The skeletons' breaths seized in their throats. Their gazes became fixated on Frisk's right temple._

_That night gave the brothers another first:_

_The first time Papyrus saw blood._

_Frisk's eyes opened silently. They were glossy and unfocused; the eyes of someone still half asleep, or the eyes of someone who was seeing something other than what was in front of them. Their head lifted, cast their gaze to the skull inches from their face._

_Their eyes finally gained clarity. And widened in alarm._

_The noise that burst from their mouth as they wrested themself free of Papyrus' grasp could've passed off as a scream, but it was so mangled and ragged it came out as a croak. They landed flat on their rear, their palms slamming onto the floor behind them. Their eyes would not look away from Papyrus' face. They were full of fear._

_Sans gulped heavily, stepped forward and held his hand out. "frisk-"_

_Another croak of a scream. Frisk recoiled from the hand like it was a hornet's nest. They retreated themself into the corner of the room, brought their knees up to their chest, clamped their hands down on either side of their head, tried to make themself small. Their eyes were so full of fear._

_"OH, FRISK, D-DON'T BE SCARED," Papyrus tearfully begged, his tone holding a slight drawl from when he was gripped with paralyzing shock that came with seeing Frisk looking so full of fear. "PLEASE DON'T BE SCARED..."_

_Slowly, ever so slowly, he inched toward the cowering child tucked away in the corner. "Y-YOU WERE SLEEPING. YOU MUST'VE HAD A TERRIBLE NIGHTMARE. BUT, FEAR NO MORE! YOU ARE AWAKE NOW! AND HERE, WITH US!"_

_Frisk winced. Papyrus stopped just close enough to be able to reach out and touch them, but he did not. He kept his arms down, palms up in a sign of peace. A shaky smile was on his stained-with-tears face. "FRISK, IT IS US. SANS AND PAPYRUS. YOUR FRIENDS. YOUR GUARDIANS. Y-YOUR BIG BROTHERS. PLEASE...DON'T BE AFRAID OF US..."_

_Sans lingered back, not wanting to overwhelm the already overwhelmed child in the corner. Their eyes would not stray from Papyrus' face. Those eyes were full of fear, yes, but those eyes, Sans knew, were not the eyes of someone afraid of him and his brother._

_Theirs were the eyes of someone afraid_ for _him and his brother._

_Who knew how long it took before Frisk's tremors calmed, before they stopped retreating themself into the corner, before they finally stopped looking upon their big brother in fear? No one was keeping track the passage of time before Frisk fully woke, before they realized where they were, before they really saw the person kneeling before them, with nothing but love and compassion in his expression._

_Their back straightened a little. The tension in their muscles lessened as well. Their legs moved until their knees were against the floor. They gaped up at Papyrus, their expression unreadable. Slowly, so very very slowly, their fingers untangled themselves from their hair, and they reached a hand to the skeleton's face._

_They touched him like he was made of sand, and their fingers were the ocean's waves. Like one careless stroke would cause his bone to crumble and fall away. Their fingertips roamed across his face, and he allowed it. He remained perfectly still as their fingers traced under the hollow of his eye socket, around the edge of his jaw, across the curve of his cheekbone. First the left hand, then the right, their hands explored his face as he patiently stared down at them, and they stared up at him as if they were seeing him for the first time. Their palm slid against his cheekbone-_

_They instantly stiffened. He did, too. A curious sensation was felt when their palm traveled along his cheek. The sensation of something wet and warm smearing against bone. Realization hit them like a ton of bricks. Some of the blood from the cut on their head got on their hand, transferred to Papyrus, now stained his otherwise pure-white skull red._

_Papyrus' sockets flicked between their face and their hand, panic slipping into his expression. "F-FRISK-"_

_Guilt broke out across their expression. A single sob rang out. As tears welled up, then slid down Frisk's cheeks, their hands covered their face and they began to cry._

_Their cries, heartbroken and heartbreaking, were soft and ragged; their throat must've been sore and raw from screaming. Their entire upper half convulsed with every weak whimper, and it took a considerable, tortuous amount of time before Sans and Papyrus caught the words laced in-between their weeps:_

_"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."_

_Not a second more was wasted after Papyrus heard this. He encircled his arms around Frisk and brought them close. The rest of the world was ignored as he held them, rested his chin against the top of their head, whispered so very, very gently to them. "IT'S OKAY, FRISK...IT'S OKAY..."_

_Sans was fixated on the sight, a still and silent observer to the sequence of events that unfolded upon his return to the motel room. Not before long, he felt like an intruder. And it wasn't until he ghosted across the room and secluded himself in the bathroom that he let the wave of thoughts and emotions that'd been building up crash down on him._

_It couldn't've been more than an hour or two since he went out, and both Frisk and Papyrus were sound asleep on the beds. To come back to that, to see Frisk being held down like that, to see Papyrus so freaked out and afraid, to hear Frisk screaming..._

_His breath shuddered as he exhaled, and his back slid down the bathroom door until he was sitting fully on the ground. He ran a hand down his face, tried yet spectacularly failed to keep himself calm and centered. It was easy for him to realize why he was so unsettled by everything, but knowing why didn't make him feel any better about it._

_He'd have nightmares before. Nightmares that made him toss and turn so much in his sleep it woke Papyrus up and made him check on him. It was easy for Papyrus to wake him up those times. If it had been a nightmare Frisk had, Papyrus could've woken them up just as easily. But putting together all the limited facts he had - hearing the words 'Don't hurt them' and 'Leave them alone' as he approached the room, the state of the room caused by Frisk's thrashes, Papyrus having to resort to magic to restrain them, the fear about them after they finally woke, the heartbroken apologies, the screams...Oh god, the_ screams _..._

_What Frisk had experienced was more than a nightmare. Far, far more than a nightmare. And it was something Papyrus never had experience in dealing with before. No wonder he was unsure of what to do. No wonder he froze up like that when Frisk started screaming...God, the_ screaming _..._

_A violent shudder ran down his spine. He had never heard Frisk scream like that before. In fact, he'd never heard them scream at all; not even during the course of their resets in the Underground. It was so pronounced, so full of terror and agony... How long had it been building up, just to be loosed in one long, soul-wrenching go? What kind of untold horrors had they seen...?_

_Theorizing about it wasn't going to do him any good. Even if Frisk wanted to talk about it (which he highly doubted), he was sure he didn't want to know what they'd been dreaming about. He already had a good enough idea about its contents, anyway. He remained seated against the door a while longer, psyching himself up after letting the emotions run their course. He grunted a little as he rose, crossed over to the sink and wetted a towel. He wrung out the excess, then exited the bathroom and returned to the main room._

_Papyrus had succeeded in calming Frisk down. He sat with his back against the bed Frisk had been on. There wasn't enough space between the bed and the wall for his legs to be fully extended; his soles were pressed against the wall and his knees were bent at 90 degree angles. He had Frisk on his lap, his arms around them in a protective embrace, his expression the most weary Sans had ever seen on him as he kept his gaze on the human in his arms. And Frisk...oh, Frisk..._

_They weren't exactly the smallest kid around, but god, they looked so tiny in Papyrus' arms. So tiny and fragile and broken; had it really only been hours since they were laughing and playing together without a care in the world? How could the atmosphere between them have shifted so suddenly? How could such screams of torment and agony come from someone so small and young?_

_Those were rhetorical questions, of course. Rhetorical questions that, not only Sans, but also Frisk and Papyrus already knew the answers to._

_Sans steeled himself. He knelt down beside his brother. "move your hand."_

_His voice was soft as a lullaby. It was the loudest thing in the room. It took a moment of consideration, but Papyrus obliged, moved his left hand away from Frisk's head and draped it across their shoulder._

_"you, too, kiddo."_

_It took longer than it did with Papyrus for Frisk to respond to the gentle request. Their hand's movement was hesitant, but eventually, it joined the other one in resting against Papyrus' chest._

_Sans tensed, but kept his expression even as he raised the towel and gingerly tended to the bleeding cut across Frisk's temple. He had seen Frisk bleed before, yes, but the reason why he had was one he'd rather forget. There wasn't even that much blood (compared to the amount he'd seen before), but it was definitely enough to make his composure threaten to break._

_"hmm. it's not as bad as it looks, thankfully," he commented lightly as the last of the blood was cleaned away. "there's a little bruising, but the cut isn't deep. you'll probably walk away from this with just a scar. that's good, yeah?"_

_Frisk didn't respond. They looked so desensitized and numb; they hadn't even winced as he cleaned their wound._

_Sans fidgeted. "lemme just...take care of this then."_

_He used a clean part of the towel to wipe away the blood smear on Papyrus' cheek. The corner of his eye socket twitched at the wet sensation, but Papyrus remained otherwise unresponsive. He would not look away from Frisk._

_With Papyrus' skull once again bone white, Sans took Frisk's right hand in his. He held it, palm up, and used as little force as he could to scrub away the dried blood staining the skin. "there we go," he said as soon as he was done, his voice soft as ever yet remaining the loudest noise in the room. "clean as a whistle."_

_No responses from either of the embracing individuals._

_Sans' sockets dimmed. "...i'll go get a bandage-"_

_He moved to get up, but eased back into his kneeling position. A small hand had wrapped around his finger, gripped him lightly enough that he could easily slip the digit out if he wanted. He did not. Especially after seeing Frisk finally focusing their sullen, teary gaze on something other than empty space._

_They pulled his hand close, stared down at his open palm, considered it thoughtfully. Both skeletons watched as they turned his hand this way and that, their movements so very slow and careful. Their fingertips roamed across his hand, and he allowed it. He remained perfectly still as their fingers traced along every curve, ridge, and joint of his skeletal hand. He stared patiently at them as they flexed each of his fingers, stared studiously at his hand with such careful scrutiny, as if they were going to be tested on it later._

_"...This is real, right?"_

_Sans and Papyrus almost didn't catch the words. "HUH?"_

_"This. All this. It's real, right?" Their voice was softer than the flapping of a butterfly's wings. Sans and Papyrus still barely heard it. "I'm real. You're real. You're here. You're both here. And I'm...I'm not...still dreaming, right? Y-You're both..._ alive _, right?"_

_Their voice cracked on the last note. Sans and Papyrus' sockets widened. Their souls quivered in heartache. "oh, frisk-"_

_"And you'll both still be alive if I go back to sleep, right?" Tears dribbled down their already tear-stained cheeks. Their feeble grip on Sans' hand trembled. "B-Because this is real, and not a dream, right? I'll be able to wake up, and you'll still be here,_ right _??"_

_They hid their face against Sans' knuckles and broke into helpless whimpers. "Please...p-please be real..."_

_Papyrus choked on a sob. "OH, FRISK, YES! YES OF COURSE THIS IS REAL!!" He held them closer, pressed his teeth against their head of disheveled brown hair. "YOU ARE REAL! I AM REAL! SANS IS REAL! THIS FUNNY-SMELLING MOTEL ROOM IS REAL! WE ARE ALL SO VERY, VERY REAL!!"_

_"it was just a dream, frisk." Sans took their tiny hand in both of his, held it reassuringly. "it was a dream, and this is reality. we're here, with you. we're not going anywhere."_

_Frisk sniffled, looked up from behind Sans' hands. They didn't look entirely convinced._

_Sans sighed, scooted a little closer, stared Frisk straight in the eye. "i know dreams can be super scary. so scary that you don't want to fall asleep again. i know you're scared, but you don't have to be. not while we're here. we'll...we'll keep you safe."_

_"THAT'S RIGHT, FRISK! YOU'LL NEVER NEED TO FEAR WHEN THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS NEAR!" He sounded more confident than before, though his voice retained a slight waver in it. "MY HUGS KEEP BAD DREAMS AWAY! JUST ASK SANS! I WILL HUG YOU ALL NIGHT IF YOU WISH ME TO! WHY, I'LL DO ANYTHING TO MAKE SURE YOU FEEL SAFE, FRISK! ANYTHING..."_

_"anything," Sans echoed, the curve of his smile gentle and reassuring._

_Frisk stared for a minute. Their eyes shifted downward, their gaze thoughtful._

_They turned their head down, rested their cheek against Papyrus' chest. "Just...stay with me? Please?"_

_Sans scooted closer, made himself comfortable on the floor. "we'll stay as long as you need."_

_"I love you guys..."_

_Papyrus strengthened his embrace. "WE LOVE YOU, TOO, FRISK."_

_"I...I'm_ so sorry _..."_

_The two skeletons faltered, exchanged glances. The room became silent for a spell._

_"...we know, kid."_

_Sans touched his forehead to Frisk's, one hand cupping the side of their head. Papyrus pressed his teeth against the top of Frisk's head again, one hand cupping around the back of their head. "we know..."_

_The three of them stayed that way for the rest of the night._

 

\----

> _writer's note: listening recommendation:<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IeJkDTKMLDg>_

 

Sans had never felt more restless and on edge in his entire life.

He paced the floor of the Snowed Inn's lobby, his hands periodically clenching and un-clenching with each anxious turn. His thoughts were running faster than a speeding bullet train. They swarmed like an angry, uncoordinated hoard of wasps and bees that couldn't agree on where they should go. But they all boiled down to one simple question: _what the hell's going on???_

Sans only stopped pacing when he heard the inn's front door open. But it did nothing to calm the chaos buzzing around in his skull.

"I FOUND SOME BLANKETS," Papyrus reported as he crossed the threshold. "THEY WERE A LITTLE MUSTY, BUT I AIRED THEM OUT. THEY SHOULD PROVE TO BE QUITE SATISFACTORY IN WARMING YOU UP, FRISK."

Sans stood still and watched as Papyrus approached the long red couch placed in the inn's lobby. Frisk sat on this couch, their small body bundled in the second jacket Sans had grabbed before following them out into the storm above-ground and everything went dark. Sans had kept this jacket tucked up underneath his own, so it wasn't quite as soaked or icy cold when he wrapped Frisk up in it, but it did little to relieve the kid's frost-bitten state.

The inn was the only place in town that seemed to offer any semblance of warmth and hospitality when the trio entered the once cozy, lively town. Not even Grillby's seemed all that welcoming anymore; maybe it was because the fiery proprietor of the establishment was no longer keeping the place up and running. The deserted state of the little hamlet had done little to ease Sans' fried nerves. Reminded him all too much about other times. Bad, bad times...

Something between a growl and a groan rumbled in his throat as he resumed his pacing, his stride quicker and more impatient.

"YOU'RE GOING TO WEAR A GROOVE INTO THE FLOOR AT THIS RATE, BROTHER," Papyrus commented lightly as he swaddled Frisk in the blankets he had found abandoned throughout the abandoned houses in the abandoned town. As an afterthought, he removed his cape, freed it from frost, and wrapped it scarf-like around Frisk's head and neck. "I AM SURE THE OWNER WOULD NOT APPRECIATE SUCH DISREGARD FOR HER ESTABLISHMENT."

"well the owner's not here, is she?" Sans said bitingly, his pace not faltering. " _no one's_ here, papyrus. no one but us."

"THAT DOESN'T MEAN YOU CAN JUST DO WHATEVER YOU PLEASE," Papyrus patiently chided.

"who's gonna stop me, huh? is it suddenly against the law to walk back and forth?"

"OF COURSE IT ISN'T. I AM ONLY SAYING-"

"and it's not like you're any better. you think the owners of those blankets're gonna be mad that you took 'em without asking?"

"I-IT WAS AN EMERGENCY. I'M SURE THEY'D UNDERSTAND-"

"no one's gonna raise their eyebrows at what we're doin' here. because there's _no one here_ at all besides us, pap."

"...BROTHER, YOU NEED TO CALM DOWN-"

"we can do whatever we damn well please down here now, pap! we can torch the whole goddamn place to the ground-"

"SANS!!"

" _what?!_ "

It's not like Papyrus had never seen Sans angry before. Sans angry was just a sight that Papyrus was unaccustomed to seeing. And it was a sight Sans would always regret letting Papyrus see at all.

It was clear that he still felt that way even now. After sharply turning on his heel, eyes glaring and left socket ablaze, his demeanor instantly changed at the sight of Papyrus' expression. An expression full of discomfort and fear, but showing love and understanding all the same.

"p-pap i...i'm sorry," Sans relented, the blue fire in his eye smoldered as he looked at the floor. "i didn't mean to yell at you..."

"I KNOW YOU DIDN'T," Papyrus patiently replied.

He shakily exhaled, ran a hand down his face. "i just...have no idea what's going on anymore."

"NEITHER DO I. THAT IS PRECISELY WHY WE MUST KEEP OUR HEADS AND THINK THIS THROUGH THOROUGHLY. WE MUST REMAIN CALM, SANS. _YOU_ MUST REMAIN CALM."

Sans gulped heavily. "i'm not used to not having all the answers, bro."

"NO ONE CAN TRULY HAVE ALL THE ANSWERS, SANS."

"i know that. but it feels like i _should_."

"...IS THIS HOW YOU FELT DURING THE RESETS?"

Sans stiffened.

"YOU FELT YOU KNEW ABOUT EVERYTHING THAT WAS HAPPENING DURING THE RESETS," Papyrus continued, his voice low and his tone thoughtful. "ABOUT WHO WAS CAUSING THEM, ABOUT THE OTHER TIMELINES, WHEN AND WHERE THEY'D STOP AND START. YOU HAD THE ANSWERS THEN. THAT'S WHY YOU NEVER TALKED TO ANYONE ELSE ABOUT THEM. NEVER TALKED...TO ME..."

An ache made itself present in Sans' chest. "pap-"

"WELL, NOW NEITHER OF US HAVE THE ANSWERS. SO WE MUST DISCUSS OUR SITUATION TOGETHER. TALK TO ME, SANS. WE WILL ARRIVE AT OUR OWN CONCLUSIONS. DISCOVER THE ANSWERS OURSELVES. WE MUST WORK TOGETHER, AND FIND OUT WHAT IS HAPPENING. TOGETHER. IF NOT FOR OUR OWN SAKE, THEN...FOR THEIRS."

Sans looked up, and found his brother staring not at him, but at the only other soul in the room.

Frisk still wasn't exactly the smallest kid around, but god, they looked so tiny in the bundle of blankets Papyrus had wrapped them up in. So tiny and fragile and broken; was it really only hours ago that they were smiling and laughing without a care in the world? Sans hadn't seen them look so desensitized and numb since the Sunset Motel incident. They also looked on the verge of sleep, and still so cold. Were they aware of the brothers' conversation? How much had they heard?

How much did they need their big brothers to know what was going on?

That was a rhetorical question, of course. A rhetorical question that, not only Sans, but also Frisk and Papyrus already knew the answer to.

Papyrus was right. Frisk needed both of them to remain calm and talk things out, think things through.

Frisk _needed_ them.

Sans' shoulders slumped as he let out a low sigh. He padded over to the couch, socks still wet with rain and frost and snow, and plopped down on the well-worn cushion, seated himself beside Frisk so that they were sandwiched between him and his brother.

"...where do we even start?"

"WE CAN START WITH WHAT WE ALREADY KNOW," Papyrus suggested, sounding much more upbeat than earlier. "WE KNOW WE'RE UNDERGROUND."

"we know we have no idea how we ended up back down here."

"WE WERE ALL STANDING TOGETHER OUTSIDE BEFORE WE FOUND OURSELVES HERE. WHICH REMINDS ME-" Papyrus stared curiously at Sans over Frisk's head. "-WHY WERE YOU AND FRISK OUT THERE IN THE RAIN, ANYWAY?"

The shorter skeleton noticeably tensed. "frisk had wandered outside. i thought they were sleep-walking. but now i...i'm not so sure that's the case."

Papyrus' skull angled to one side. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT?"

Sans gaze shifted. Should he? Yes, he should. It was open honesty hour, after all. He spied discarded papers and crayons on the inn's front counter; they probably belonged to the little rabbit child whose mother ran the inn. He reached a hand toward them, and they immediately reacted to his magic. At least now he knew that his inability to stop Frisk's earlier free-fall hadn't entirely been his fault.

He brought a single sheet of parchment and a well-used black crayon to himself. He held the paper in his right hand and the crayon in his left. He began with an outline; long and ovular. Then the eyes; one wide open and the other appearing half-swollen shut. The crayon did little justice to capture how very very dark and empty those eyes had been when he first looked upon them. The cracks were next; one jagged and the other perfectly straight, both connecting to either one of the eyes.

The mouth came last. He was especially careful to make sure that unfathomable smile was perfectly replicated onto the page.

Sans didn't consider himself much of an artist, and crayon wasn't the best medium to use in this instance, but he felt his work satisfactory for the time being. He stared down at his creation for a minute before holding the paper out toward Papyrus. "what comes to mind when you look at this?"

The taller skeleton took the paper in one hand, then held it in both, propping his elbows on his femurs as he looked upon his brother's drawing. His gaze turned studious, inquisitive; a small frown appeared on his skull. "IT LOOKS LIKE...A FACE. OR MAYBE A MASK."

"anything else?"

Papyrus' sockets narrowed. He brought the paper closer to his face. "FOR SOME REASON, I FEEL LIKE...I'VE SEEN THIS FACE BEFORE. IT'S...FAMILIAR. OR, AT LEAST, IT FEELS LIKE IT _SHOULD_ FEEL FAMILIAR. LIKE I SHOULD KNOW WHERE AND WHEN I'VE SEEN IT BEFORE. BUT, FOR SOME REASON, I DON'T." He cast a glance at Sans. "DOES THAT MAKE SENSE?"

"yeah, it does," Sans assured, his gaze fixing on his drawing again. "that's exactly how i feel when i look at it."

The room was quiet for a spell, the gazes of the two brothers fixed upon that unfathomable, somehow familiar smile...

"...I ALSO FEEL LIKE I'M BEING WATCHED."

Sans straightened. "watched?"

Papyrus lowered the drawing, fidgeted in his seat. "WHEN I LOOK AT THIS, AND EVEN WHEN I'M NOT, IT FEELS LIKE IT'S WATCHING ME. LIKE THE OWNER OF THIS FACE IS HERE, SECRETLY WATCHING OUR EVERY MOVE. THAT MAKES SENSE, RIGH-SANS ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?"

By all appearances, it looked like Sans really wasn't listening to Papyrus anymore. But he was, if only half-interestingly now. The other half of his interest was in the last thing he remembered before following Frisk outside. Before waking to find them sleep-walking(?).

That dream(?).

That hallway in Waterfall.

That beckoning grey door.

That short, monochrome corridor.

That small, monochrome room.

That oppressive atmosphere of _nothing_.

That living blackness, darker than dark.

That implacable voice coming from everywhere at once, yet from nowhere at all.

The feeling of being watched was also present in that room. As was that mask-like face he had drawn upon the sheet Papyrus held. That mask-like face that Frisk had worn before darkness snatched the three of them.

A connection.

He rose to his feet, his expression resolute. "i think i might know where we can find some answers."

Papyrus stared curiously at his brother at first. Then his expression also became resolute. "I'LL GO WITH YOU."

Sans gave his brother a grin and shook his head. "don't take it the wrong way; i know you're just as desperate for answers as i am. but this is somethin' i should check out alone first. to be honest, i'm not a hundred percent sure the place i'm going to actually exists. but if it does, and it's safe...well, we'll see."

Papyrus looked unsure.

Sans gave Papyrus' shoulder a reassuring pat. "just...trust me on this, bro."

Papyrus considered this briefly, then nodded.

"alright." Sans pulled his hand away. "see you in a bit-"

He moved toward the door, but froze mid-stride. A small hand had wrapped around his finger, gripped him lightly enough that he could easily slip the digit out if he wanted. He did not. Especially after seeing Frisk finally focusing their sullen, tired gaze on something other than empty space.

Frisk didn't say a word, but the pointed, begging look they gave him told Sans enough. Don't go.

Sans flinched under that gaze, but kept the curve of his smile reassuring. "hey, don't gimme that face." He stood in front of them, stooped down a little so their heads were level. "i'm just goin' out for a bit to check on something, then i'll come right back. it won't take me half an hour. you can wait that long, can't you?"

The strength of Frisk's stare increased. They would not relinquish his finger.

Sans held back a sigh. He took Frisk's hand in both of his, firmly held it and their gaze. "i know you're scared and confused. we are, too. but i might be able to find some answers for what's going on. so i'm gonna go check it out. you stay here with pap and get warm. he'll be enough for you to feel safe, right?"

Frisk looked unsure. But, soon enough, resign washed over their features. They removed their hand from his, retracted it back into their blanket cocoon and hid their mouth against Papyrus' scarf.

Sans gave their hair a gentle stroke before rising to full height. "i'll be back soon."

He turned and walked to the door, pausing with his hand on the handle to give the scene behind him one last glance. Papyrus and Frisk on the couch, the former patting the latter's back, trying to bring them comfort in the forms of rubs and words. The look in Frisk's eyes suggested that it wasn't working very well.

For some reason, when Sans looked back on Frisk's face at that moment, a memory was recalled. The memory of the two of them sitting side by side in a hallway. Formal attire. A golden flower. A conversation. Mentions of a basement, a photo album, blueprints, a machine...

Another connection?

"...while i'm at it," he said to himself as he opened the door and stepped out into the cold Snowdin air. "a stop at the ol' homestead might prove to be a good use of my time."

He closed the door shut behind him, and headed east.

 

\----

Dreams.

Reality.

The worst feeling in the world is when the line between the two is blurred.

Sans and Papyrus' house on the surface. You were there. You know you were. Undyne took you there after school. You made plans for your summer road trip with your 'big brothers'. You were curled up with Sans on the couch. Papyrus was making dinner. You could smell the tomato sauce and boiling noodles. You were going to watch some TV while you ate. You felt tired. You closed your eyes for only a minute...

To open them back up and find yourself staring down a bottomless darkness was no way to wake up.

And yet, here you are.

With Sans and Papyrus.

In the forest just outside Snowdin.

Underground.

How or why the three of you were here was beyond you. Sans had asked what the last thing you could recall was. The only thing you could was that you had been dreaming. About what, you could not remember. And trying to make yourself remember only served to make your head feel like someone was trying to pull it apart at the places on your face that feel...strange.

It almost felt like you were not _supposed_ to remember.

You tried to tell your 'big brothers' this, but a horrid coughing fit interrupted you before you could. You could not stop shivering afterwards. How cold was it here? You certainly don't remember it being _this_ frigid the previous times you've been here. And why were your clothes stiff with ice...?

Papyrus would not release you from his embrace as he and Sans took you into town. You must've been shivering pretty badly; they took you straight to the closest building that seemed to still offer any warmth in the now abandoned town, and Papyrus immediately took off after placing you on the inn's couch to secure some blankets for you.

You became only vaguely aware of the next sequence of events after this. Because while half of your mind fought the encroaching urge to sleep, the other was wide awake and restless and overall trapped in mind-boggling confusion.

How did you get here?

How could you have gotten here so quickly?

What time is it?

What day is it?

What...what _timeline_ is it?

You've only ever seen Snowdin this empty a handful of times. And most of those times...

This...this must be a dream. This can't be real.

It certainly feels real enough, though.

But if it is...

...No.

Oh no.

It...It couldn't be...

It can't be...

...can it?

"... _no one's_ here..." "...AN EMERGENCY..." "...what's going on..." "...THE RESETS?" "...they were sleep-walking..." "...BEING WATCHED."

Words reached your ears as you continued deeper into disassociation. Words that did very little to help you decide whether or not this is truly reality. Or to help the other half of your mind in its fight against feeling so tired. So, so tired...

It was only the vague awareness that Sans was leaving that pulled you out of your dual mental states.

The pointed look you gave him as you shot one hand out of your blanket cocoon (which had been wrapped around you without your awareness) begged him not to leave, as did the way you feebly clutched his skeletal finger. But Sans was having none of that.

"i'm just goin' out for a bit to check on something, then i'll come right back. it won't take me half an hour. you can wait that long, can't you?"

No, no you can't. Don't go. Please...

"i know you're scared and confused. we are, too. but i might be able to find some answers for what's going on. so i'm gonna go check it out. you stay here with pap and get warm. he'll be enough for you to feel safe, right?"

Yes, but...but...

Please don't go...

It was with regret that you released him from your grasp, turned away from him and hid your mouth against Papyrus' cape (which had been wrapped around your neck scarf-like at one point, apparently). You felt the sensation of your hair being stroked, heard a whispered promise of swift return. A door opening, then closing. No more Sans. Just you. And Papyrus.

And your mind feeling like it's going to break.

Reality.

Dreams.

You were once convinced that the worst feeling in the world is when the line between the two are blurred.

That night at the Sunset Motel was the first time you experienced how upsetting it can be when it's near impossible to tell if you're back to reality, or still stuck in a dream. If Sans and Papyrus hadn't been there to give you confirmation...well, you don't want to think about what would've happened.

That was then. This is now.

Now you know, there's an even worse feeling than being unable to discern the difference between dreams and reality.

You're now experiencing a feeling even worse than that.

The feeling that both the dream and reality are equally undesirable.

And you're not sure which one you'd rather be in.

 

\----

"WORRY NOT, FRISK. SANS MAY BE A LAZYBONES, BUT HE'S A TRUSTWORTHY LAZYBONES."

No response.

"HE IS ALSO VERY SMART, EVEN THOUGH HE DOESN'T ALWAYS ACT THAT WAY."

No response.

"HE WILL RETURN SOON. AND HE WILL UNDOUBTEDLY RETURN WITH ANSWERS."

No response.

"I TRUST THAT HE WILL, SO YOU SHOULD TRUST THAT HE WILL, AS WELL."

No response. None at all.

Papyrus opened his mouth to say more, but he found himself at a loss for what else to say.

He hadn't seen Frisk this listless since the Sunset Motel incident. Not just listless, but lost and alone. Such a scared, upset look in their eyes...it broke his heart to see them this way (or it would, if he had one).

Wearing a brave face, he leaned over and wrapped his arms around their bundled-up body. "FRISK...I KNOW YOU'RE AFRAID. I AM AFRAID, TOO. I'M AFRAID OF WHAT HAS HAPPENED, AND THAT WE CANNOT YET EXPLAIN HOW IT HAS HAPPENED. AND THAT IS OKAY. IT IS PERFECTLY ALRIGHT TO BE AFRAID SOMETIMES. BUT, WE CANNOT LET OUR FEARS CONTROL US. I AM AFRAID OF WHAT WE CURRENTLY FIND UNEXPLAINABLE, BUT WITH THE KNOWLEDGE THAT WE WILL FIND ANSWERS, I KNOW I WILL NOT STAY AFRAID FOR LONG."

He felt Frisk wriggle slightly in his arms.

He pulled back a little, tried to look them in the eye. "WILL YOU TELL ME WHAT IT IS THAT IS CAUSING YOUR FEARFUL STATE?"

Frisk said nothing, but shifted a little under his gaze.

"AM I GOING TO HAVE TO GUESS WHAT IT IS?"

Frisk continued having a stiff upper lip. With the way their eyes wandered, it looked like they were hesitant about something.

Papyrus frowned, put a gloved hand to his chin and started rubbing it. He really hadn't seen Frisk look like this since the night of the Sunset Motel incident. The night when they had such a terrible dream that, when they woke up, they...

A spark of an idea ignited in his mind. "ARE YOU...UNCERTAIN WHETHER OR NOT THIS IS A DREAM?"

Frisk noticeably tensed. Bingo.

Frisk never told Sans nor Papyrus what they had been dreaming about that night at the motel, and neither of them asked them to. Frisk was obviously grateful for that. But even though they woke the next morning with Sans and Papyrus still faithfully with them, the fear remained. The fear that they would, once again, find the line between the dream and reality indiscernible. Options had been discussed, and eventually, a system was set up that would help the child (and anyone else, if such a thing happened to them) know that, yes, they were back in reality. A system of goofy passwords designed to invoke laughter and drive out negativity. It was Sans' idea.

Papyrus grinned. "NYEH HEH! IF THAT IS WHAT IS TROUBLING YOU, THEN BE TROUBLED NO LONGER! BECAUSE-" He cleared his throat, then proclaimed in a clear, precise voice, " _I AM NOT AN IMPASTA_!"

The tall skeleton took pride in the fact that he was finally able to implement the system that had been worked together to help Frisk out.

So proud, in fact, that he did not take notice that Frisk, already pale to begin with, had turned whiter than snow.

The inn's front door opening then swiftly shutting made Papyrus jump. "SANS? IT HAS ONLY BEEN ABOUT TWENTY MINUTES! I WOULD HAVE EXPECTED YOU TO-OH MY GOD ARE YOU ALRIGHT?!"

The shorter skeleton was leaning heavily against a wall, his skull sweating bullets and his breaths laborious. Part of his shorts looked singed, as did the hem of one of his hoodie's sleeves.

"i'm...just peachy, pap," he assured his brother with a grin, though it wasn't all that convincing. "just, ah, took a couple wrong turns, that's all."

Papyrus rose from the couch and crossed over to Sans, worry written all over his face. "YOU LOOK LIKE YOU ALMOST FELL INTO HOTLAND'S LAVA! ARE YOU SURE YOU'RE ALRIGHT?"

Sans dismissively waved his hand. "yeah, i'm alright. just...need to catch my breath for a minute."

Papyrus remained still and patient as Sans leaned his skull back against the wall, evened out his breathing. "...COULD YOU FIND THE PLACE YOU WERE LOOKING FOR?" he eventually asked, his voice low and intrigued.

Sans' grin lessened. "...no. i couldn't."

"BUT, IT LOOKS LIKE YOU DID FIND _SOMETHING_."

Papyrus gestured to the long, rolled-up piece of blue paper tucked underneath Sans' arm. Blueprints, by the look of it. "um, yeah." Sans glanced shiftily at the paper. "it definitely is _something_..."

A soft thud was heard before Papyrus could ask why Sans was acting so cagey. Both skeletons looked back into the lobby to see Frisk on the floor, emerged from their blankets like a butterfly from its cocoon. Much like a freshly emerged butterfly, they were shaky and uncoordinated. Not like the butterfly, they did not get any better coordinated and steady. Their legs seemed completely unresponsive, as was apparent when Frisk tried to get up, clinging to the edge of the couch like a lifeline. But their legs would not cooperate, their grip gave out under their weight, and the child collapsed to the floor with a scarcely audible gasp.

Both skeletons immediately rushed for the fallen human. Papyrus reached them first, quickly scooped them up and placed them back on the couch. "THAT'S IT. YOU'RE BANNED FROM WALKING! AT LEAST UNTIL AFTER YOU GET BETTER!"

"god, kid, you're as white as us," Sans commented, and it wasn't just an opinion. "you should get some rest-"

He moved his hand to lay them back on the cushions. They pushed it away with the back of theirs.

Sans, confused for only a moment, gave the human a gentle grin. "hey, buddy, it's okay. it's not like anything bad's gonna happen if you go to sleep for a-"

"Don't lie to me."

Sans and Papyrus almost didn't catch the words. "HUH?"

"Don't lie to me," Frisk repeated, then added a small, tense, "Please."

The two skeletons faltered, exchanged glances. The room became silent for a spell.

"...why do you think i'm lying?"

Frisk gave Sans an accusatory look. Then their eyes stared down at their hands, which laid palms-up on their lap. Experimental finger flexing happened for a few seconds, then the child stated, in a voice small and hollow and completely devoid of any emotion,

"Because I haven't been sleep-walking, have I?"

Sans, and even Papyrus, winced.

"Not waking up where I fell asleep," Frisk continued in that small, hollow tone, their expression forcefully neutral. "Waking up _here_. The gaps in my memory. The pain in my head when I try to make myself remember, like I'm not _supposed_ to remember. This isn't sleep-walking. At least, not entirely. Isn't that right?"

Both Sans and Papyrus opened their mouths to say something, but no words came.

"...It's happening again, isn't it?" Small hands in a small lap formed into small fists. Their owner's head hung low. "Someone's been...possessing me."

The following silence was so great, a needle dropping to the floor would've been as loud as a jet plane taking off.

"SOMEONE-NO. NO, THAT SIMPLY CANNOT BE!" Papyrus knelt down in front of Frisk and placed his hands on their shoulders, tried to make them look at him. "FRISK, YOU ARE UNWELL, AND NOT THINKING CLEARLY. IF YOU'D ONLY GET SOME REST-"

"Everything that's been happening happens whenever I'm asleep," Frisk replied manner-of-factly, voice scarcely above a whisper as they refused Papyrus' attempts to lean them back against the couch.

"THAT DOES NOT MEAN YOU MUST DENY YOURSELF REST!" Papyrus' voice became stern, yet retained a worried tone. "FRISK, PLEASE, IF YOU ARE WORRIED ABOUT WHAT MIGHT HAPPEN TO YOU-"

"I'm more worried about what might happen to _you_!"

Papyrus flinched at the sharp tone. Not even looking up, Frisk gestured vaguely at the kneeling skeleton's chest. "I did that, didn't I?"

Papyrus looked down, tried to figure out what the human was talking about. It wasn't until he looked behind him that he figured out what Frisk meant. There was a moderately big crack down the back of his chest plate. Was that what that loud _CRUNCH_ was?

"O-OH. UH. THAT. UH. ...NO? I MEAN. TECHNICALLY...YES? BUT. NOT REALLY? I-I MEAN..."

With each second that Papyrus floundered, Frisk's demeanor became more melancholic.

A frustrated groan left his mouth. "UUGH THIS IS ABSURD! VERY VERY ABSURD! THE ONLY ENTITY THAT HAS EVER BEEN CAPABLE OF POSSESSING YOU WAS 'THEM'! AND 'THEY' ARE GONE NOW! SANS FREED YOU FROM THEM, REMEMBER?!" He huffily turned to the shorter skeleton beside him. "SANS! KINDLY TELL FRISK THAT THEY ARE BEING...ABSURD..."

Papyrus' mood dipped once he saw Sans' expression. Saw the distant look in his sockets, saw the way his jaw clenched, saw how very, very tense he had suddenly become. "OH, NO. NOT YOU, TOO, BROTH-"

Before Papyrus could fully feel like he was alone in his beliefs, Sans knelt down on one knee beside him, took Frisk's hands in his own, and tried to look them in the eye.

"frisk, c'mon, look at me." The command was firm yet gentle, and he waited only until after Frisk semi-turned their face his way before continuing with what he had to say. "listen, we don't know what's going on or what's causing it. there're a whole lotta unknowns we're dealing with here. sure, there's a possibility that you're being... _possessed_ -" All three cringed at the word. "-but there're a whole litter of other possibilities that say you're not. we don't know yet. but we're gonna find out.

"and if you're scared to go to sleep again, don't be. 'cause you got us here lookin' after you. we're not gonna let anything bad happen to you." He squeezed their hands, made the curve of his smile more assuring. "we'll keep you safe."

To hear his brother - his most of the time lazy, unmotivated brother - speak with such resolution and motivation, Papyrus felt joyful pride well in his chest. "SANS IS RIGHT, FRISK!" He slammed his hands on top of the ones in Frisk's lap, sandwiching Frisk's between his and his brothers. "THERE IS NO NEED TO FEAR WHEN THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS NEAR! WE WILL DEFINITELY FIND THE ANSWERS TO OUR CURRENT DILEMMA! AND YOU WILL REMAIN SAFE IN OUR CARE UNTIL WE FIND THE SOLUTION!"

Frisk stared down at the three pairs of hands on their lap. They appeared as though contemplating something.

"...Promise me."

The skeletons almost didn't catch the words again. "huh?"

They felt Frisk's hands fidget between their own. "If...If I'm asleep, if I'm not...'myself', and I start doing bad things..."

With exhaustion on their face and determination in their eyes, Frisk looked to their big brothers, and firmly commanded, " _Stop me._ "

Papyrus immediately understood what was expected of him. He strengthened his grip on Frisk's hands, and nodded. "YOU HAVE MY WORD."

Sans and Frisk stared each other dead in the eye for several loaded seconds. He, too, strengthened his grip on Frisk's hands, and nodded.

Frisk nodded back. The simple action looked like it took a strenuous toll on the child. They opened their mouth to speak, but a fit of coughs came out instead. They wrested their hands out of the skeletons' grips and covered their mouth as the coughing continued, their stamina dipping with each haggard hack. They were drained of so much energy that when it was over, if not for the two kneeling in front of them, Frisk would've collapsed to the floor again.

"...let's get outta here," Sans said quietly. "frisk'll only get sicker if they keep staying in the cold."

Papyrus nodded, scooped Frisk up into his arms as he rose to full height. "WILL WE BE TAKING ONE OF YOUR 'SHORTCUTS'?"

Sans shook his head. "no shortcuts this time, bro. i've got the riverperson's boat docked up at the jetty; we're takin' the long way out this time."

"WHERE WILL WE BE GOING ONCE WE GET BACK TO THE SURFACE?"

Sans had been moving toward the door. He paused when Papyrus asked this. He glanced to the blueprints tucked under his arm, then his sockets found the drawing he made that Papyrus had left on the couch. He found himself drawn into that face, those eyes, that unfathomable smile...

He grabbed the paper, folded it up, and tucked it into his jacket pocket. "we'll be going to get a second opinion."

 

\----

Tired.

So tired.

So very, very tired.

But even with the promise that your 'big brothers' will stop you should you do anything when - _if_ \- you're not yourself, you find yourself unable to sleep yet. Even with the horrendous coughing fit that sapped you of what remained of your stamina, still you force yourself to stay awake.

In your state of fatigue, you become dimly aware that you've been lifted and held. You're being carried; out of the inn's tolerable coolness and into Snowdin's harsh coldness. You hear the crunch of snow, the lapping of water, the creak of wood. You're still, but your moving. Air serenely brushes by you as you feel your body gently bouncing, hear the lapping of water continue with metronome-like precision. A boat? You can't be sure. You can barely see much of anything through the deep haze of exhaustion clouding your vision.

It's warmer now; at first, refreshingly, briefly unbearably, then finally comfortably. Altering patterns of light and shadow. A familiar, floral smell. A distant song of a bird.

It's not until you know you're outside, in the light and warmth of the morning sun, that you allow yourself to succumb to sleep.

All while electing not to let your 'brothers' know of the painfully familiar taste of iron on your tongue.

All while hoping Sans knows _exactly_ what you meant when you said, " _Stop me._ "


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: vomiting

_Among the various plant life growing throughout the Underground, where sunlight never truly reaches, it's a wonder that the golden flowers that came from the surface, where sunlight is aplenty, are able to not just survive, but thrive. Perhaps the cause for their thriving survival lies in the magic-enriched water flowing through the Underground keeping its residents well hydrated. Or maybe, just maybe, plants have their own innate determination to survive where it's otherwise inhospitable._

_Among these golden flowers growing in various places sprawled out across the Underground, one in particular stands out among the rest, for more reasons than one. Not only for its larger size, slightly longer and thicker green stem, and fuller petals, but for also being more than what its simple, unassuming composure lets on._

_You find him exactly where you expected him to be, and find it a little unnerving that he's in the exact spot and position as when last you saw him. The 'real' him, that is. Head down low, facing the flower bed, body statue still, facing away from you. Once again without a whole, intact soul inside him, the despondent, melancholic vibe he gives off now is uncannily similar to the one he had when you saw him last. The 'real' him, that is._

_He doesn't hear you approach at first. Or maybe he's just acting like he doesn't. Either way, it's not until you stop just shy of a yard away that he finally turns toward you, lifts his snow-white face up, and stares at you with his thin, coal-black eyes._

_"So. You're here again."_

_You say nothing as Flowey looks you up and down, his expression blank and neutral as he carefully scrutinizes your appearance. Your ruffled-up hair, your practical hiking boots, your stripped shirt beneath your warm jacket, your dirt-stained pants. His gaze lingers a bit on the knapsack hanging from your shoulder before his eyes meet yours. It's obvious that he's searching them for your intentions, but you've long since mastered the art of making sure your expression gives nothing away._

_The flowers behind him bear silent witness to your staring contest, which remains just as silent until Flowey cracks a sly smirk._

_"Ohhh, I see what's going on here." That sly grin widens, grows fangs sharp as stingers as Flowey's brand of dark mirth enters his voice. "Finally got bored of those useless friends, didn't you?"_

_You don't say anything._

_He chuckles loudly as his fangs become flatter, larger, making his smile take up nearly the entirety of his face. "How long's it been, anyway? A few weeks? A month? Wow! I didn't expect you to get bored of them THAT quickly! You're a whole lot sicker than you look!"_

_You don't say anything._

_"So bored, in fact..." His face blows up like a balloon, making it just as tall as you so his empty, glaring eyes are level with yours. "That you decided to come back here and RESET. So we can do this allllll over again! You really are a sicko!"_

_You don't say anything as he cackles loudly. You haven't even flinched once throughout this so far one-sided conversation with the flower. And as his cackles come to a stop, his smile lessens, and he arches a brow, it becomes obvious that your lack of responsiveness is starting to get to him._

_His face deflates a bit the longer you stay unresponsive, then slyness once again crosses his features. "Ohhhhh, I get it now. You're here looking for_ him _, aren't'cha?"_

_You don't say anything._

_Flowey throws his head back and fills this small area in the Ruins with loud, on the verge of maniacal cackles. They continue loud and long before his head snaps back toward yours, expression filled with mockery. "Idiot! You_ honestly _think he'd still be here?! That's a whole new level of stupid even for you!"_

_You don't say anything._

_"And if you think_ I'm _gonna do anything about it, too bad!" His mouth grows fangs the size of your arms, eyes full of darkness that burn holes into you. "That good-for-nothing crybaby's NEVER coming back! And there's NOTHING you can do to change that!"_

_Cackles fill the area once again. You don't say anything._

_Minutes pass before the cackles finally end. Flowey's expression turns as neutral as yours, though you see hints of bewilderment in his eyes as he stares into yours again. You don't say anything._

_More minutes pass before you see something akin to resentment flash across his features. You remain quiet and unresponsive as you watch his face deflate back to its default size, his head turn back to the bed behind him, and his petals sag._

_"...Why are you here, Frisk?"_

_You drop your knapsack onto the ground beside you as you walk up to and sit down beside him, barely a foot's distance between the two of you. You feel his eyes on you as you sit cross-legged, lean back on your hands, and stare not at the flowers that broke your nasty fall who knows how long ago, but up at the hole you dropped down from who knows how long ago._

_"Have you ever tried to get out from there?"_

_Out of your peripheral vision, you see Flowey turn his face up. His eyes briefly survey the difficult-to-see hole far above the both of you before his face turns back to you, expression smug._

_"Hee hee, that's got to be the_ dumbest _question I've ever heard in my life!" He pauses, then adds, "Why do you ask?"_

_You shrug. "I just...never really considered it before. You and I both know it's impossible for me; you've seen me try it before. But you're a lot more mobile than me. So-" You turn your head down to him, a brow arched in curiosity. "-have you ever tried to get out from there?"_

_He frowns at the face you're pulling, then pulls a smirk and scoffs. "Hah, you really think I would've stuck around down here for this long if I_ could _get out from there?" He looks back to the flower bed you both sit before. "I would've washed my hands of all you idiots long ago if that were possible."_

_"That's not what I asked," you quietly argue._

_He gives you an annoyed glare, but doesn't say anything. Neither do you. Sighing inwardly, you crane your neck back up toward the hole, and you're just barely able to see its outline standing out against the roof of the cave where it resides in._

_"...Why are you so suddenly interested in that hole, anyway?" he quietly asks._

_"Because it's going to be sealed up soon," you quietly answer._

_"...Oh."_

_The flowers before the both of you are silent and still._

_Dark chuckles come from beside you. "_ Now _I get it. You came here to gloat."_

_You don't say anything._

_"It just_ wasn't _enough that you had to take down the barrier - the one exit to this god-forsaken place. You just_ had _to seal up its one-way entrance, too!" Snickers full of acid-like cruelty fill the air. "No wonder you're asking if I've ever been able to get up there! Are you really that desperate to be rid of me?!"_

_You don't say anything, but turn to give him a look that says 'You know better'._

_His expression, one full of the stuff of nightmares, withers under this look. It gives way to indignant confusion. You think you see a spark of resentment in his eyes again before he snaps his head back to the flower bed._

_"You didn't answer me before, y'know," he reminds you in a flat, tense voice. With one eye barely peeking back up at your face, he asks, once again, "Why are you here, Frisk?"_

_You spend another moment staring down at him before you reach for your discarded knapsack. You pull it close and open it up, peer into its depths as you dig around for the items stowed away within it. You feel his stare on your back turn curious, hear the shifting of plant life as he tries to look around you, tries to see what you're up to._

_It's with no large effort that you soon find what you're looking for. You remove the two items - one sitting inside the other - from the bag and place them on your lap. You catch Flowey pulling his head back, his eyes wide with alarm. "Wh...wh-what are you doing?"_

_Your fingers wrap around a firm, wooden handle._

_"...Stop it."_

_Metal glints in this room's dim light._

_"I said stop it."_

_You raise your hand high, aim for the flower you sit beside, and bring it swiftly down-_

_"FRISK STOP IT!"_

_By the time the tip of the small gardening shovel in your hand breaches the ground, Flowey's already disappeared into it. He pops back out a few feet away, his expression equal parts horrified and outraged. "Have you gone insane?! Why are you even thinking about doing this?!"_

_You stare at the spot he used to be sprouting out of for a moment. Then you place the flower pot on your lap onto the ground beside you, free the shovel from the ground, get up and walk up to the spot he's sprouting from now._

_Barely a step towards him and he burrows again, this time emerging on the other side of the flower bed and well away from you. The outrage on his face is beginning to outweigh the horror. You turn toward him and start walking._

_"B a c k   o f f ," he warns in a positively ghoulish voice, a halo of 'friendliness pellets' surrounding him. "O r   I ' l l   k i l l   y o u ."_

_You pause at the edge of the flower bed, consider it thoughtfully. Then you step into it._

_"I mean it!" The horror's beginning to outweigh the outrage as you get closer. The pellets buzz like an angry swarm of wasps and are aimed directly at you. "Come any closer and I_ will _kill you!"_

_You tiptoe through the flower bed, careful not to crush any of the golden petals beneath your feet._

_"Th-This is your last warning!" He's struggling to remain outraged and threatening; his voice is cracking and the pellets seem to be wavering in their desire to slice through you like a hot knife through butter. "O-One more step and I'll-"_

_You step forward._

_"_ NO! _"_

_Instinct causes you to duck down and cover your head as the pellets fly toward you. As it turns out, however, you didn't really need to. The one that came closest to you would've missed you by feet if you hadn't ducked down. The pellets disappear into parts unknown in this small area of the Ruins. You straighten yourself and look to where Flowey is. Or, more accurately, where Flowey_ was _. And it's not just the pellets that've disappeared into parts unknown. Flowey seems to have vanished, too._

_A voice reaches you from beyond these parts unknown. The voice is his, but smaller, humbler, more like the person that was your friend for a little while._

_"I told you already: I can't come back. I just_ can't _."_

_"...They won't have to know it's you," you argue softly. "They'll never have to know, if that's what you want."_

_"You think they'll accept me the way I am now? After everything I've done?"_

_"I'm sure it'll take some time," you confess. "But, you'll have me around to help out with that! I'm sure they'll-"_

_"Do you have any idea how much I've screwed around with them? No, of course you don't. And you never_ will _. No one but me will ever know that."_

_"That...th-that shouldn't matter! It's in the past, and they'll never remember it, right?"_

_"I don't need your sympathy. Just go away already."_

_You feel your hands begin to tremble. Tears mist your eyes. "Please...Asri-"_

_"D O N ' T   C A L L   M E   T H A T ."_

_You feel the earth rumble beneath your soles as his command echoes throughout the cavern. You stiffen, your breath seizing as the echoes continue. And it's not until they stop that you allow yourself to breathe again. Before you hear his small, humble voice speak to you again._

_"I'm_ not _the person you want me to be. Not anymore. The person you're looking for has been dead and gone for a long time. It's for the best that you just forget about me."_

_Your lower lip quivers. "But-"_

_"Go, Frisk. Be with your friends. Live your life. Fill it with happiness. Remember me for who I was, not for who I am. Please...just leave me alone."_

_Your hands clench into fists. "Please..."_

_"I've made my choice."_

_The determined finality in his voice shakes you to your very core. This conversation is over. You're not changing his mind._

_You failed._

_The flowers around you seem to sag as much as you do. The shovel almost slips out of your grip, but you manage to keep it in your hand as you exit the flower patch, remaining ever careful not to crush any of them beneath your feet._

_You return to your discarded knapsack. You kneel down and repack the pot and the shovel. You sling the bag's strap over your shoulder. You get back to your feet, making sure the bag is secure._

_"...No one wants the Underground to remain permanently sealed off again," you profess to the darkness._

_No response._

_"The opening where the barrier used to be will remain open."_

_No response._

_"This is me respecting your decision. But, if you should ever change your mind...come find me. Okay?"_

_No response._

_Your shoulders slump. Keeping your grip firm on your knapsack's strap, you walk toward the archway leading further into the Ruins._

_"And get some rest, will you?" his voice requests from parts unknown. "You look absolutely miserable."_

_The bags under your eyes feel heavier than the bag on your shoulder._ If only it were that easy...

_You step through the archway, leaving him and the patch of golden flowers behind._

_Sunlight never truly reaches the Underground. Not even in the one place where there hasn't been a barrier for it to filter through._

_And now, it'll never get the chance to._

 

\----

_Ring, ring..._

_Ring, ring..._

_Ring, ring..._

_"Greetings, caller. This is Toriel. My apologies, but I am unable to answer the phone at this current time. However, if you leave me a message, I will be sure to respond to it as soon as I can. Be good, and take care!"_

_Beeeep..._

"heya, tori. it's sans. now i don't want you to worry but...something's up with frisk. i can't exactly talk about it over the phone, but it could be something major. really major. rather than call me back when you get this, though, it'd be better if i just share the details with you in person. pap, frisk, and i are gonna be at alphys' lab; meet us there as soon as you can. and, tori? it'd be a good idea if you could bring a sick-day pack. i'm sure frisk would really appreciate it. okay, that's all from me for now. see you soon."

_Click..._

Sans returned Papyrus' cell phone to Papyrus as soon as the message was left. Papyrus stowed it, then asked, "YOU REALLY WISH TO INVOLVE TORIEL IN THIS MATTER?"

"a mother oughta know when something's happening to her kid," Sans stated manner-of-factly, his brisk stride down the tree-lined path unfaltering. "besides, she might be able to give us more intel about their first sleep-walking incident."

"AND WE ARE ALSO TO BE INVOLVING DR. ALPHYS WITH THIS."

Sans nodded. "'course we are, bro. she's the royal scientist for a reason. or, i should say, ex-royal scientist. if we got a best bet for someone that'll be able to explain what the deal is, it's with her."

"...AM I ALSO TO ASSUME THAT IS WHAT THOSE BLUEPRINTS ARE FOR?"

Sans glanced briefly at the rolled-up paper tucked under his arm, his expression wary. "uh, yeah. something like that." He looked back ahead, expression back in its usual carefree caliber. "we can talk more about it when we get there. c'mon."

The shorter skeleton's pace quickened. The taller's slowed. It wasn't until Sans heard Papyrus' footsteps stop completely that he stopped as well. He grinned over his shoulder. "why you stopping, bro? the sooner we get to alphys', the better. now get that lead outta those bones! we got places to be."

Papyrus didn't move. Unease was written everywhere on his face, which was turned down to the ground.

Sans' grin faltered. He turned and closed the distance between himself and his brother. "pap...what is it?"

"I...I JUST..." Papyrus fidgeted where he stood, his bony brows creasing in worry. "IT'S JUST THAT..."

Sans waited patiently, though the way he bounced on the balls of his feet suggested he would not stay patient for long.

"YOU MUST HAVE SAID OTHERWISE, SO THEY WOULDN'T WORRY. BUT, SANS..." Papyrus gave his brother a knowing, suspicious stare. "I KNOW THAT LOOK YOU HAD BEFORE, WHEN THEY SAID THEY SUSPECTED...POSSESSION."

Sans' incessant bouncing ceased. He became stiller than stone.

"...YOU THINK IT'S TRUE, DON'T YOU?" His expression turned heartbroken as he turned his gaze to the bundle in his arms. "YOU THINK THAT SOMEONE IS...MANIPULATING FRISK AGAIN."

Only the sound of the wind rustling the leaves in the trees that lined the path the two brothers walked on filled the silence.

Even though he didn't need to keep up appearances (with Papyrus not looking his way), Sans struggled to keep a straight face. Such a task turned out to be a battle lost from the start, especially when Sans found himself also staring at the bundle in his brother's arms.

From just a glance, what lay nestled in the crook of Papyrus' elbow was nothing more than a bundle of clothes. If one only looked closely enough, or knew what to look for, they would see the small child nestled in among the fabric. Frisk's face was just barely visible behind the scarf wrapped around their head and neck, and the locks of brown hair hanging down in front of it. The skin upon it was both pale and flushed at the same time. Such a sickly combination only served to make the dark circles beneath their eyes look that much darker and heavier. Their breaths came and left in short, strained, raspy bursts, with the occasional cough that was strong enough to make their whole body shudder. Though they were sleeping, their rest was anything but peaceful.

Looking to Frisk at that moment had been a mistake. It made the thoughts that ran through his head when Frisk made the claim back in the inn run through his head once again. Thoughts of possibilities, of doubts, of memories. Words of reassurance now becoming blatant lies. Promises he truly intended to keep: tainted and on the verge of being irreparably broken.

_it's gone now._

Is it really?

_it can't hurt you anymore._

Did he overlook something?

_you're free._

If he did, why would it resurface now?

_it's finally over._

Was this...was this why it died laughing?

_everything's gonna be okay now._

_i promise._

"i..."

His voice threatened to crack with that single letter. He turned his darkened sockets to the ground, his jaw clenching tightly. "i just...think it should be the first possibility we cross off the list."

If Sans had looked back up, he would've seen the look on Papyrus' face that suggested he wasn't satisfied with that answer. But he didn't look back up. He kept staring at the ground as his fists clenched at his sides, and his expression morphed into one of forlorn despair.

"this was supposed to be over, pap," he openly confessed, voice quaking with emotion. "this was supposed to be the best ending; the one we were meant to keep. no more resets. no more demon. no more waking up underground. no more having to worry about any of that. it was all suppose to have ended that night, when i freed frisk from 'them'. if i overlooked something...i-if someone's trying to _use_ frisk again...after all this time..."

He hadn't realized his shoulders were shaking until Papyrus placed his hand on one. He turned his head up, and found nothing but love and understanding in his brother's gently smiling face.

"WHICH IS WHY WE MUST SEE DR. ALPHYS IMMEDIATELY, YES?" The taller skeleton's smile widened. "BECAUSE SHE HAS THE MEANS NECESSARY TO ELIMINATE THAT POSSIBILITY, RIGHT?"

Sans blankly stared at Papyrus. Then he blinked, composed himself both outwardly and inwardly, and smiled. "exactly. so let's keep movin'."

Papyrus return his hand to Frisk's back, and the skeletons set off again. They kept an even pace down the tree-lined path, the silence between them somewhat awkward.

"...IF IT _IS_ TRUE," Papyrus eventually whispered, his hand unwarily bunching the fabric on the back of Frisk's jacket, "DO YOU THINK... _THEY_ ARE THE RESPONSIBLE PARTY?"

Sans almost said 'who else could it be?', but stopped himself, remembering the folded-up paper tucked away in his pocket. "...maybe. maybe not. but my money's on the latter."

"DO YOU ALSO THINK THAT, MAYBE, THIS IS WHY FRISK HAS BEEN SO ILL AS OF LATE?"

Sans stopped so suddenly he almost tripped. He hadn't considered that. "again: maybe. maybe not. pap, listen." He caught up to his brother, his gaze stony and serious, yet not unkind. "these're all great questions, believe me. but they're not questions we can just walk and talk about. once we meet up with alphys, we can discuss and theorize everything more effectively. and, besides, every time we stop to talk about it-"

As if on cue, a particularly horrid cough burst from Frisk's mouth. They almost woke up from it. A shuddering whimper followed the cough, and the side of their face fell back against Papyrus' chest.

Papyrus strengthened his hold around the child and nodded, understanding perfectly what Sans was getting at.

The two set off again, their strides quicker and more purposeful than before. Sans found himself looking back at the bundle in his brother's arms, and also found himself looking upon the kid in astonishment. This kid, who had been forced to carry out many a dark, terrible deed while under another's influence, looked so small, weak, and frail now. If it _was_ happening again, if someone _was_ trying to forcefully hold sway over their conscious will again...

Then the most recent promise he silently made to Frisk was one he did not want to entertain the thought of ever having to keep.

Because he knew _exactly_ what Frisk meant when they said, " _Stop me._ "

Finally, Alphys' lab came into view. Both skeletons broke into a slow jog. "WAIT. DID WE EVER CHECK TO SEE IF DR. ALPHYS IS EVEN IN TODAY?" Papyrus pondered.

They reached the front door. Sans shrugged. "guess we'll just have to find out." He rapped lightly on the lab's front door before pushing it open a little. "hey, alph?" he called in through the crack. "you in there?"

No response.

Sans pushed the door open a little wider. The room beyond looked dark, suggesting that there was no one home. But, the front door was unlocked, so _somebody_ must be in there, right?

Sans gave Papyrus a look. Papyrus studied it, nodded, and kept his hold around Frisk a little tighter, a little more protective. Sans pushed the door open all the way. Both skeletons crossed the threshold, the door quietly closing shut behind them, and progressed.

"PLEASE EXCUSE THE INTRUSION, DR. ALPHYS," Papyrus called into the shadows. "BUT WE FIND OURSELVES IN THE MIDST OF A MOST DIRE DILEMMA. ONE IN WHICH WE REQUIRE YOUR IMMEDIATE ASSISTANCE."

"i know we're a bit early for this-" As they rounded a corner, Sans felt around for and found a light switch. "-but we need you to do an emergency 'check-up' on- _whoa_."

The switch hadn't been flicked, but light filled the room before them. It spilled forth from dozens upon dozens of monitors stacked together and on top of each other in some sort of makeshift pyramid that stretched from floor to ceiling. Said light did not spill forth uniformly; no two monitors displayed the same image. Each displayed different settings, different scenes, different landscapes. Each still and un-moving; as though a movie had been playing, and whenever the scene changed, a different monitor paused it then and there, and so on and so forth.

Sans whistled. It was a low, impressed sound, for the sight was certainly impressive, if not hard on the eyes. "looks like alph's been busy."

"WAIT A MINUTE," Papyrus murmured as Sans flicked the light switch; the overhead lights hummed weakly to life and made the monitor monolith easier to behold. "I RECOGNIZE THOSE PLACES!"

Sans studied the monitors more closely and discovered that he, too, recognized the locations displayed on them. "it's-"

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the President of the Flowey Fan Club and Smiley Trashbag. In. The. _Flesh_."

That voice. That bright, cheery voice dripping with acid-like cruelty masquerading as joy. They knew that voice. They knew its owner. But there was no way, no possible, conceivable way that the owner of that voice was there. Just...no...way...

Hearing that voice initially seized both skeletons with paralyzing shock. They recovered soon enough, and when they did, their skulls stiffly turned toward the direction that voice came from. Both pairs of sockets were wide with alarm. And they widened even more to see what - who - it was coming from.

A thin green stem sprouting straight out of earth. A corolla of six golden petals that've captured the sun's radiance in their hue. A snow-white stamen surrounded by these petals. An expression of haughty smugness shaping the face on that stamen.

"Hee hee, get it? 'Cause you don't have any flesh?" that voice continued, an air of superiority in it as that expression of haughty smugness greatened, even more so the longer no response came from those that voice was addressing. "Boy, it sure is sad that the so called 'comedian' can't even recognize a joke! Do you really need me to spell it out for you dimwits? I just told a joke, so this is the part where you're supposed to l- _ACK_!"

"so busy, in fact-" The burning blue aura now coating the flower's body was the same that now coated Sans' raised left hand, spookily illuminating the darkened sockets and wide, joyless grin on his skull. "-that she's failed to see that she's got a little _weed_ problem."

The flower's smugness fled, was replaced with anger. That stayed only until that voice darkly chuckled, and dark, empty eyes stared down dark, empty sockets. "Go ahead and try it, _trashbag_ ," that voice taunted through a mouth full of needle-sharp fangs. " _Make my day_."

Sans' wide, joyless grin remained illuminated in blue light. That same blue light began to spill forth from his left socket-

" _FLOWEY_?"

-but only the white of his pupils came forth.

Locked in a stalemate, both flower and monster became statue still as Papyrus finished picking his jaw off the floor (a statement that had the potential to be literal, but was only figurative in this instance). A broad smile appeared on his skull after he did. "FLOWEY! IT _IS_ YOU! IT'S BEEN _AGES_ -"

Papyrus had started approaching the plant when he ran into Sans' outstretched arm. He looked down at his brother in clueless surprise. "SANS?"

"i get that you're excited to see your old 'bud' again, bro," the shorter skeleton said in a low, tense voice, eyes never straying from Flowey's. "but now's not the time to be rolling out the welcome wagon."

"Aww, why not?" Flowey whined, sarcasm oozing from every word that left his slyly smirking mouth. "Like Papyrus said, it's been _ages_ since we've seen each other! Why not catch up over brunch? Or a nice, soothing cup of-"

"i'm sure you'd love nothing more than to 'soothe' us," Sans remarked bitingly, "but we got bigger priorities to attend to than entertaining _you_."

Papyrus remembered the reason they came to the lab in the first place. "AH YES, THAT'S RIGHT! WE DO HAVE MORE PRESSING MANNERS TO ATTEND TO!" His smile turned apologetic. "I AM SORRY WE HAVE NO TIME TO CATCH UP AT PRESENT, FLOWEY. BUT WE MUST MEET WITH DR. ALPHYS IMMEDIATELY! DO YOU KNOW WHERE WE MIGHT FIND HER?"

Sans went stiff with well-contained terror. That terror threatened to break through at the sight of the face Flowey pulled. Oh no. _Alphys._

"where is she?" His magical grip subtly tightened, and blue fire sparked in his left socket. "what have you done with-"

A muffled yelp and a clatter came from parts unknown deeper in the lab. Heads turned toward the sound, which was soon followed by urgent footsteps heading their way.

"Flowey!" called out a relievingly familiar, squeaky voice from the direction the footsteps were coming from. "You were supposed to wake me up three hours ago!"

The face Flowey had pulled - one Sans soon realized had been one that one would pull when a forgotten task was suddenly remembered - morphed into one of annoyance that snapped in the direction of the voice. "Do I _look_ like an alarm clock?!"

"You said you'd wake me up!"

"Yeah well get it in writing next time!"

The casualness of their bickering felt as unreal as a winged tortoise. The footsteps came closer, and from around the back of the monitor monolith, Alphys appeared.

To say she looked disheveled and tired would be accurate, but putting it very lightly. She looked as though the nap she had apparently just woken up from was the first time she'd had any real sleep in weeks. Her clothes creased and stain-ridden, a paper cup half-full of steaming hot coffee in one hand, she adjusted her slightly askew glasses and frowned at Flowey.

"And I told you about the lights!" she chided as she emerged fully into the room. "You know that's-" She gestured broadly to the monitors. "-been sucking up enough power as it is! We can't risk another outage! Uugh, if only we could siphon energy straight from...the..."

Alphys stopped in the middle of the room. She took notice of the extra bodies occupying it. Her eyes took in each of their faces, her own blank from shock. She blinked, and looked to each of them again. She blinked again. Then she brought the cup to her lips and knocked back the rest of the coffee inside in one gulp.

She shuddered as the scalding hot liquid traveled through her mouth, across her tongue, and down her throat. She waited a moment for the effects of caffeine to kick in before turning her attention back to the scene before her. Her eyes, more alert than before, took in the sight for a long time. She did not blink.

"Oh. My. _God_."

The cup fell soundlessly to the floor as Alphys' hands flew up to her head, horror breaking out across her face. "Oh my god _what are you doing here_?!?"

"here's a better question, alph." An edge in his voice, Sans jerked his head in Flowey's direction. "what is _he_ doing here?"

"GOOD MORNING, DR. ALPHYS!" Papyrus cheerily greeted the scientist. "HOW ARE YOU TODAY?"

Color drained from Alphys' face. "Oh no. _Ohhhhh_ no no no no no no no you c-can't be here! H-How did you even g-get in?!"

"You left the front door unlocked, _genius_ ," Flowey sneered.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU LET ANY OF US KNOW FLOWEY WAS HERE?"

"probably 'cause he's been keeping her prisoner here."

"WHAT? PRISONER?! IS THAT TRUE, FLOWEY? DR. ALPHYS?"

"Wh-no! N-N-Not at all! It's n-not like that! Flowey's not k-keeping me prisoner! A-At least, aheh, n-not anymore?"

"so you admit he _was_ imprisoning you."

"A-At first, yes? B-But it's okay now! We've r-reached an, um, understanding!"

"Yeah, if anyone's being kept prisoner here, it's _me_."

"Wh-What? B-B-But you said you d-didn't mind being in the pot!"

"IT IS A RATHER NICE POT, IN MY OPINION!"

"I'm _not_ referring to the pot!"

"Then wh-oh god. Oh my god Sans th-there's really no need for that!"

"like hell there isn't. do you not remember the last time he showed up?"

"O-Of course I do! Or, at least, some of it? B-But it's all okay now! It r-really is! H-He's actually being civil and cooperative now! He's helping me! A-And I'm helping him!"

"SANS, I BELIEVE DR. ALPHYS' WORDS TO BE TRUE. PERHAPS YOU SHOULD LET FLOWEY BE-"

"not until i get some answers."

"Here's an idea: let me go and _maybe_ I'll feel compelled enough to give you some."

"here's an idea: tell me what i wanna know and maybe, _just maybe_ , i'll feel compelled enough to let you live."

"Oh my god p-please don't!"

"SANS, I KNOW YOU ARE NOT PARTICULARLY FOND OF FLOWEY. BUT, SURELY, YOU CANNOT BE SAYING THAT YOU MEAN TO...DO HIM HARM?"

"Hee hee. Wouldn't be the first time he's 'thought' about it, I'll tell you that much."

"WH...WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY-"

" _enough_. why are you here, flowey?"

"Wouldn't _you_ like to know."

"G-Guys..."

"tell me. _now_."

"BROTHER, PLEASE BE REASONABLE-"

"And what if I don't? What're you gonna do about it?"

"You guys...p-please..."

"tell me. or else."

"SANS! PLEASE!"

"Or else _what_?"

"...You're gonna have a bad t-"

" _Will everybody PLEASE calm down for, like, TWO SECONDS?!?_ "

Alphys raising her voice felt as unreal as the casualness of her and Flowey's previous bickering. Both happened irregardless.

Calm down for, like, two seconds everybody did. And it was in that requested - demanded - moment of calm that a sound was heard. A quiet sound. Almost inaudible. A small moan; one full and heavy with weariness.

That sound, which was soon accompanied after by the slight shifting of fabric, made the moment of brief peace persist past the demanded length. Something was stirring. Someone was waking.

All present turned their attentions to the bundle in Papyrus' arms, from which both sounds originated. From within the bundle, Frisk's curled-up body twitched and fidgeted. A hand, small and pale and shaky, emerged from a coat sleeve, and reached toward the pale yet flushed face hidden behind scarf and hair. It moved both out of the way before fingertips woozily rubbed the sleep out of their eyes.

"OH, FRISK," Papyrus said as softly as he could, his hand on their back rubbing it gently. "WE ARE SO SORRY. WE DID NOT MEAN TO WAKE YOU."

"...Oh," Alphys squeaked, staring blankly at the squirming bundle in Papyrus' arms. "F-Frisk is here, too."

Both Sans and Flowey stared at the slowly waking child in silence, their expressions showing subtly decreasing hostility.

As for Frisk, they finally finished rubbing their eyes, but the weariness of sleep still persisted in them as they took in their surroundings. Papyrus' was the first face they saw, on which was a caring, if not hesitant, smile. A downward glance afforded them a view of Sans' face, which had by the time replaced all traces of hostility with calmness. They blinked slowly, and just as slowly lifted their head to give the room a once-over. They saw a clock on the wall, but they were still too groggy to tell the time. They saw a computer desk, on which a computer ran a complicated program they'd have no hope of making heads or tails of any time soon. They saw Flowey. They saw the monolith of monitors, which they only briefly kept their sights on because it was making their eyes water. They saw Alphys, who nervously offered a friendly wave that they presently had not the lucidness to return. They s-

Frisk became very still. They blinked several times. Lucidity unclouded their eyes. As if rust choked their joints, Frisk stiffly turned their head. Their gaze passed back over Alphys and the monitor monolith, then rested on the potted plant sitting plainly on the computer desk.

Human and flower locked gazes. One showed blank shock, the other guarded uncertainty. The rest of the world was disregarded as the two regarded each other, revisiting their shared history through each other's eyes. Greetings spoken, farewells issued. Deceptions unmasked, blood spilled. Advice given, advice heeded. Lies spun, truths enlightened. Identities mistaken, identities revealed. Promises made, promises kept. Choices made, choices respected.

And now, after all this time, here they were. After everything that happened between them, the plain casualness of their re-meeting felt the most unreal out of every unreal occurrence that happened that day.

...

...

...

...

"...Asr-"

Flowey threw his head back and filled the room with loud, on the verge of maniacal cackles. They continued loud and long before his head snapped back toward Frisk's, expression filled with mockery. " _Wow_. Has the passage of time really dulled your memories enough that you forgot my name?! Oh you _wound_ me!"

More cackles filled the air. Stares were cast Flowey's way, each showing varying degrees of concern for his sanity. One did not stare at him like this, however. Their stare remained as full of blank shock as before, even after the cackles stopped and Flowey's face showed snooty smugness. The room became quiet after that, making the only sounds heard the tick-tock of the clock, the hum of electricity buzzing in the lights and on the monitors, Frisk's raspy breathing...and the small, hollow sound of Frisk's palm lightly patting Papyrus' chest plate.

Papyrus looked down, understanding the gesture but making no indication of complying to its meaning. Not until Frisk furrowed their brow and frowned at him, that is. With reluctance and with care, Papyrus hooked his hands under their armpits and placed them on the ground.

It took a few moments of wobbling and clinging to the skeleton before Frisk's muscles remembered how to work properly, and Frisk was able to stand on their own power. Their breaths wheezed and strain creased their features, but not two seconds after securing stability while standing, Frisk's eyes found Flowey's again and they started walking towards him. Barely four stumbling steps of progress was made before they stopped, turned their head, and gave Sans an accusatory glare.

Sans pupils flicked between Frisk's face, Flowey's, and the blue aura still surrounding both the flower and his extended left hand before focusing back on Frisk's face, back on their accusatory expression. His own became incredulous, offended, outraged, somewhat desperate. The kid _can't_ be serious. But that piercing, unrelenting, determined look in their eyes buried any and all arguments before they could reach his mouth.

With a low, begrudged groan and an eye roll, Sans let his hand drop, relinquishing his hold on Flowey's body. Flowey made a show of brushing himself off, though without any limbs all he could do was wriggle his stem and toss his head in an arrogant manner. That arrogance persisted as he sneered at Sans, but lessened as the skeleton pointed two fingers at his now dark and empty sockets, then pointed those fingers straight at Flowey's face; the universal 'I'm watching you, so don't try anything' gesture.

Flowey hmph-ed loudly, opened his mouth to make a scathing remark. The words hadn't even the chance to form on his tongue. Frisk had resumed and completed their purposeful, unsteady trek to where he sat in a clay gardening pot atop the computer desk, now stood directly before him. Their faces were level with each other, barely a foot's distance between them. Their gazes locked again; they stared at each other in silence before Flowey looked Frisk up and down, considered them thoughtfully before meeting their eyes again.

"Well," he stated. "Don't you look absolutely miserable."

A myriad of several conflicting emotions crossed Frisk's face. They raised their arms and, to everyone's surprise, wrapped them around the circumference of Flowey's pot, and rested their head against the base of his stem.

Flowey stared at the child hugging him (or making their best effort to, given the circumstances) with absolute indifference. "...Yeah, yeah." That same indifference persisting in his voice, Flowey avoided looking at any of the other gathered bodies in the room. "Good to see you, too, or whatever."

A tense silence followed Flowey's remark. A tense silence unexpectedly, somewhat comically, broken by the 'ding' of a microwave from somewhere deeper in the lab. The smell of instant ramen was detected.

"...let's start from the top." His voice and face completely devoid of amusement, Sans looked to Alphys and jabbed a finger at the potted plant Frisk was embracing. "what the hell is _he_ doing here?"

"ALSO." His voice and expression stern but not unkind, Papyrus also looked to Alphys and gestured to the monitor monolith taking up a good chunk of the room's volume. "WHY ARE YOU, ERM, _SPYING_ ON THE UNDERGROUND?"

Alphys acted as though she didn't hear them. She stared blankly at the two at her computer desk for quite a long time before she turned to the skeletons, gauged both of their expressions slowly and astutely. She looked to the monitors, opened her mouth, then quickly shut it. Biting down lightly on her lip, she pointedly turned her gaze onto Flowey, her entire demeanor shifting into one of someone sheepishly seeking permission for something.

Flowey's eye caught hers, they stared at each other for a moment, then Flowey groaned loudly and rolled his eyes. "Fine, whatever."

Alphys looked surprised. "R-Really?"

"Someone was bound to barge in on us eventually," Flowey rationalized, his body moving as though he was shrugging. "I'm just surprised it wasn't Undyne."

Alphys gaped, unsure of how else to express herself. "Uh. Okay. Okay! This is happening! Okay. Um. Wow. Where to. Um. Wh-Where to start-"

"Just tell them already!"

Alphys faltered under Flowey's harsh tone, but recovered soon enough. After taking in a deep, steadying breath that did not work very well to lessen the trembling of her claws, she turned and fully faced Sans and Papyrus, her expression an uneasy mix of hesitance and grave seriousness.

"A-About two weeks ago," she began, "Flowey, ah, c-came to me, asked me for help."

"really?" Sans asked flatly, throwing a scathing glare Flowey's way. " _he_ needs help."

As Flowey returned that scathing glare, Alphys stammered, "I-I know that sounds hard to believe, b-but after explaining his dilemma to me, i-it's easy to believe why he'd want help."

"IS THAT SO?" Papyrus asked, genuine concern on his face as he looked to Flowey. "WHAT IS IT THAT YOU NEED DR. ALPHYS' HELP WITH, FLOWEY?"

"better yet," Sans added bitingly, " _why_ ask for help in the first place?"

"Because there's something weird going on in the Underground, I don't like it, and Alphys is the only competent one of you people that _might_ be able to do something about it," Flowey impatiently snapped.

Sans and Papyrus started at that. They exchanged glances, silently gauged each other's expressions for a few quiet moments.

"...define 'weird'."

Alphys shakily adjusted her glasses. "Well, f-for starters, th-the Core is somehow running at full capacity. E-Even though no one who knows how to re-start, let alone operate any of the Core's primary functions has been anywhere near the Core for ages! A-And more than that, its energy intake and output is off the charts! Dangerously off the charts! I-I went down there to investigate last week, and I could barely stay in there for more than a few minutes, let alone find out who or what had started it back up there was just so much energy build-up!"

Sans' sockets widened in surprise. When he, Frisk, and Papyrus left the Underground earlier that day, they had completely bypassed the Core. But he could've sworn that, as the elevator they rode passed that way, he sensed something that made his nerves bristle in warning and anticipation. Was it the energy build-up at the Core Alphys spoke of?

"AND WHAT OF THE MONITORS?" urged Papyrus.

Alphys looked to the monitors as if worried that they were plotting against her. "Y-Yes, the monitors. That's, uh, th-that's a bit more complicated to explain. W-Wanna help me out with this one, Flowey?"

The flower glanced at her in disinterest, then turned his head away.

"Uh, okay then." Alphys awkwardly cleared her throat before continuing. "So, th-the Core's amassing a ridiculous amount of energy, right? Th-There's so much of it, it's affecting the whole Underground. For what purpose, I haven't been able to figure out yet. N-Neither have I been able to calculate just _what_ kind of energy we're talking about here. My equipment's been unable to properly read it so far, b-but I've been doing my best to fix that!"

She gestured to the computer running a complicated program on the desk Flowey's pot sat on. "E-Even though I couldn't stay in the Core for very long, I w-was able to hook up remote sensors to monitor the energy accumulating there. B-Because, whenever there's a big fluctuation in the energy build-up, l-like a big chunk of it being used up, there's...um..."

Alphys looked down, and seemed to struggle to find the words. "B-Basically, the, uh, 'something weird' thing Flowey talked about happens. Exactly _what_ happens, I've been unable to figure out yet. But it happens at random intervals, and it happens in different locations of the Underground. These-" She jerked her head to the monitor monolith. "-are all hooked up to each of the cameras that're scattered throughout the Underground, like the big one back in my old lab. S-Since there's no pattern to when or where the 'weirdness' occurs-"

"you've had to keep them all up and running at the same time," Sans hypothesized. "so you can catch the 'weirdness' in the act."

Alphys nodded enthusiastically. "E-Exactly."

There was a lull in the conversation, so as to let everything explained thus far sink in. Sans and Papyrus approached the monitor monolith, finding themselves daunted and awed at the amount of work that must have been put into erecting it. Sans found himself releasing another low, impressed whistle. "when was the last time you got a good night's sleep, alph?"

Alphys visibly relaxed. "I-I think I got about, uh, seven hours in last night," she said casually as she crossed over to her computer desk. "And that's only because _somebody_ must've also caught a few 'z's when they were _supposed_ to be watching the monitors in my stead."

The blatant casualness made Sans' hands clench in his jacket pockets. That was meant to be a rhetorical question.

An indignant huff came from Flowey. "Yeah, well, what's done is done. Cry me a river and get over it."

Papyrus frowned at the flower. "FLOWEY, PLEASE BE NICER TO DR. ALPHYS."

"yeah. she's had to do all this work all by herself while at the same time-" He cast a dark glare at the flower. "-constantly watching her back to make sure she isn't suddenly pushing up daisies."

Alphys jumped as though she'd just been electrocuted. "I-I t-told you it isn't like that, Sans!" she stammered, a flustered look on her face. "H-He's not threatening me, or forcing me to do this for him! At first, yes, he took a rather, uh, r-roundabout way of seeking help, b-but I swear he's of no threat to me, o-or any of us!"

"i can see that," Sans commented, eyeing the pot in which Flowey sat with satisfaction. "dunno how you managed to trick him into that thing, though."

"Th-There was no need for trickery, actually," Alphys clarified as Flowey gave Sans the stink eye. "Th-The pot was his idea! A way to p-prove he wasn't g-going to lay a finger on me! Or, I should say, a leaf? Aheh heh. Heh."

Sans found himself surprised at this. Being confined like this, in such a way that he was virtually immobile and vulnerable, was _his_ idea? "why-"

"Glad we could clear all that up!" Flowey suddenly piped up, a testy edge in his voice. "Now _if_ you'll stop plaguing us with your presences, Dr. Alphys and I have work to get back to."

Papyrus frowned more deeply at the flower’s belligerence. "WHY DO YOU WANT US TO LEAVE, FLOWEY? WE CAN HELP YOUR CAUSE, YOU KNOW!"

"We've been doing _just fine_ on our own," Flowey insisted, an angry tic going off in the corner of his mouth.

"'just fine'?" Sans repeated, anger swelling in his voice. "alph's been working herself ragged and for what? just so you can get your kicks watching her work herself down to the bone for the likes of you?"

"I d-don't mind, really," Alphys began to say, stopped, reconsidered, then turned to Flowey in meek askance. "I-It's really not that big of a deal i-if they stick around and help, is it? T-Two heads are better than one, right?"

"We already _have_ two heads, dingbat," Flowey snapped, the edge in his voice sharpening.

"ALLOW US TO MAKE IT FOUR HEADS, THEN!" Papyrus proposed. "WHILE ALL THIS SCIENCE-Y STUFF IS NOT MY STRONG SUIT, THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS ALWAYS EAGER AND READY TO LEND A HELPING HAND! JUST POINT ME WHERE YOU NEED ME TO BE AND-"

"Then point yourself toward the door and _piss off_." Flowey's voice dropped to a feral growl on the last note.

Papyrus and Alphys recoiled from the flower's hostility. Sans stiffened with anger from it.

"F-Flowey, please, b-be reasonable," Alphys shakily pleaded. "W-We'll be able to work things out faster a-and more efficiently if they-"

"We. _Don't_. Need. Their. Help." Flowey's voice dropped with each word, the edge in it sharper than a knife.

Sans had finally had enough. "why ask for help in the first place?"

Flowey had nothing to say to this. He had his head turned away from everyone. It looked as though he was subtly shaking.

Sans' left socket sparked blue. "oh don't you dare clam up on us now. answer damn the question! since you seem so against the idea of being a team player, why seek out someone to help you out? hell, why do you even give a damn about what happens to the underground, anyway? the barrier's gone, everyone's free to come and go as they please, including _you_ , so why do you care about what's going on there??"

There was no response. The blue sparks grew brighter. "answer me, _weed_ -"

" _Because I'M the only one LIVING THERE now, TRASHBAG._ "

Flowey's voice had turned dark and demonic. Even Sans recoiled from it this time. Flowey's head had also snapped back to face the others, his face darkened and his wickedly grinning mouth full of sharp, dripping fangs. He looked as though he just stepped out of a nightmare.

"Yeah, that's right," he continued in that dark, demonic tone, his eyes burning holes into those staring at him. "It's just me down there. Everyone else is gone. The Temmies. The Riverperson. Even the damn snowman was able to up and leave ages ago! _Everyone's. Gone._ Heh. Guess everyone was just _so eager_ to uproot their entire lives and frolic around in the sun that they forgot to make sure _everyone_ made it up here. Leaving _poor little Flowey_ all alone to _rot away_ in the darkness."

For the longest time, no one had any responses to offer to this. Alphys was the first when their responsiveness-es returned. "O-Oh, Flowey. W-We d-didn't mean to-"

With cobra-like quickness, Flowey turned his nightmarish expression directly onto the scientist, who cowered instantly beneath it. "Don't _act_ so sympathetic, _Doctor_. And don't think I was bemoaning my loneliness, either! I was trying to pay you nimrods a note of thanks for high-tailing it outta there! The Underground was way too cramped before the barrier broke; I was practically _choking_ on all the idiocy everyone polluted the air with! I'm _glad_ to be rid of you morons! Downright _ecstatic_!"

"NO, YOU'RE NOT," Papyrus stated, his voice and stance firm yet guarded. "YOU ARE BEING DISHONEST, FLOWEY. I CAN TELL THAT YOU MOST CERTAINLY DO NOT FEEL HAPPY BEING SO LONELY."

Flowey paused, then let out a sinister chuckle. "That's right. I _don't_ feel happy. Because I _can't_ feel happiness. I can't _feel_ anything at all! And do you know _why_ that is, O Great Papyrus?!"

It seemed impossible before, but Flowey's nightmarish expression became even more nightmarish as he aimed it directly at the tall skeleton. "Because I am a _soulless abomination_. A sick freak of nature that should've never been brought into being. I shouldn't exist, and yet, I do. I only ' _care_ ' about the fate of that god-forsaken place because it's the only place in this god-forsaken world where a freak like me can spend the rest of their life! Which is what all of you want, isn't it? To forget and forsake my existence and carry on with your lives without sparing me a single thought?"

Papyrus struggled to retain his composure. "NO, THAT, TH-THAT'S NOT TRUE-"

"Oh, don't you _dare_ try denying it. Who was it just now that threatened to do me harm _just_ because I'm here?" The curve of his smile grew more threatening as he cast a glowering glance Sans' way. "That's right. It was your garbage brother. What was it he said? 'Tell me what I wanna know and maybe, just maybe, I'll feel compelled enough to let you live.'? You think someone like that wants someone like me around?"

Papyrus fidgeted awkwardly where he stood. Alphys nervously fiddled with her claws. Sans turned his darkened sockets to the floor. No one had anything to say to this.

"Hmph. As I thought." Flowey's expression morphed from one of ghoulish hostility to one of sardonic indifference. He would not look anyone's way. "As much as I don't want any of you morons around, neither do any of you morons want me around."

"...FRISK DOES."

Alphys, Flowey and Sans looked up at Papyrus as though he had just entered the room and spoken for the first time. "DON'T YOU REMEMBER, FLOWEY?" Papyrus continued, a kind smile on his face. "FRISK WANTED TO BRING YOU TO THE SURFACE AND LIVE WITH US."

Alphys' jaw dropped. Flowey continued looking indifferent. Sans stared at his brother as though he'd just grown a tail. "frisk did _what_?"

Papyrus, suddenly sheepish, awkwardly rubbed the back of his skull. "BACK BEFORE THE HOLE ON MT. EBOTT WAS SEALED, YOU RECALL THAT A GROUP WAS SENT TO SURVEY THE UNDERGROUND; SEARCH FOR ANYONE WHO DID NOT LEAVE IN THE INITIAL MIGRATION, SEE IF THEY NEEDED ASSISTANCE, ETC. FRISK AND I WERE AMONG THIS GROUP. FRISK TOLD ME THAT THEY WERE GOING TO TRY TO CONVINCE FLOWEY TO COME TO THE SURFACE, AND THAT THEY WISHED TO TRY TO CONVINCE HIM ALONE."

"and you didn't think to tell anyone else about this?"

Papyrus grinned sheepishly at his brother. "IT WAS, ERM, GOING TO BE A SURPRISE, NYEH HEH."

A weary groan left Sans as he massaged his forehead. "yep. that definitely woulda been a surprise."

"Hmph. Yeah, well, lucky for _you_ ," Flowey scoffed, "this idiot finally learned how to take a hint and _gave up_."

Something about the way he said those last two words struck a sullen chord in the hearts of those listening.

"...Flowey," Alphys hesitantly said. "Y-You really don't have to go back down there a-after we're done with this."

"FRISK SAID THEY LEFT THEIR OFFER OPEN," Papyrus said carefully. "AND YOU ARE FREE TO TAKE IT UP AT ANY TIME. SO, WHY NOT NOW?"

Sans looked Flowey's way, then looked off to the side and gave a noncommittal grunt.

"I-It's okay, Flowey." Alphys did her best to give the flower a smile of reserved hopefulness. "Y-You can stay, if you want."

Flowey acted as though he was truthfully considering the offer. That lasted for only a few seconds. He scoffed again, though it sounded somewhat rueful this time. "All I _want_ is for you to fix whatever's happening in the Underground so I can be out of your hair for the rest of your lives, just like _you_ want."

Alphys and Papyrus slumped. Sans gave another noncommittal grunt.

"I don't need any of your useless sympathy. I don't need it now, and I certainly didn't need it back then. You really need to get that through your thick skull.”

...

"...Which means you can stop hugging me now.”

...

"Look at me when I'm talking to you, idiot!"

...

"...Frisk?"

The sudden, worried shift in Flowey's voice gave the monsters in the room a start. They all looked in Flowey's direction, who was himself staring down with a face showing traces of concern. They followed his gaze, and found themselves also showing concern in their faces. "...F-Frisk...?"

Frisk had not moved an inch since they started embracing Flowey's pot. They didn't even wince as Flowey started lightly rapping his head against the top of theirs. "Hey, numskull. Stop ignoring us."

Frisk said nothing.

"DID YOU FALL ASLEEP AGAIN, FRISK?" Papyrus hazarded a guess. "IF SO, THAT LOOKS TO BE A RATHER UNCOMFORTABLE POSITION TO FALL ASLEEP IN, NYEH HEH..."

Frisk said nothing.

"A-Are you okay, Frisk?" Being the one currently closest to them, Alphys reached out to the child and cautiously touched their shoulder. "You, uh, y-you're looking rather clammy."

Frisk said nothing.

Sans felt beads of sweat pop out on his skull. Clammy? Venturing on a quickly formed theory, he quickly closed the distance between himself and Frisk, stopped right beside them, and moved their hair out of the way so he could see their face. "frisk, buddy, you oka-"

Frisk’s face was whiter than Naptsablook’s. Tendons full of tension popped out against the skin on their hands and neck. Their entire body was stiller than stone; not even their chest moved, because they weren’t breathing either. Their eyes were wide, pupils dilated, full of dread.

Sans instantly stiffened. Though he'd only seen it once before, he recognized this look. And it filled him with dread to know what was soon to follow it. _oh boy._

"bucket." Sans looked to Alphys in grave urgency. "get a bucket. or a trash can. or anything like that. hurry!"

Too flustered to ask why he'd need such a thing, Alphys quickly scurried around the side of her computer desk and produced a small trash bin. Sans didn't even wait for her to bring it back to him; he yanked it out of her grip with his magic and rapidly brought it to himself. He then took a generous step backwards and held the receptacle out towards Frisk.

And then, as the question "BROTHER WHY ARE YOU GIVING THAT TO FRISK?" started to leave Papyrus' mouth, Papyrus got his answer as Frisk hastily accepted the offered waste bin, positioned their head so that their face hovered just within its rim, and vomited.

Knee-jerk reaction caused everyone gathered, no matter their closeness to Frisk, to recoil from them the instant the the vomiting began. Frisk collapsed to their knees and continued retching, neither the sound made when they fell to the floor nor the sound of their stomach contents spilling into the trash bin's depths sounding pleasant. Coughing, sputtering, gagging, and sobbing were heard all at once whenever Frisk was just barely able to catch their breath before more retching and spilling occurred. No one could block out the sickly sounds made. No one could look away from the sickly child's suffering.

"...you asked before why we came here," Sans quietly professed as the sickness finally ran its course, his jaw clenched and his sockets dark. "and it's because...something's happening with frisk that we believe only you can help with, alph."

"O-Oh my god," Alphys hoarsely whispered through the claws that had covered her mouth.

The only thing that kept Frisk upright as soon as it was over was the side of the computer desk. The entirety of their weight slumped against it, their arms became as limp and lifeless as boiled spaghetti noodles, and their body began trembling with the soft, plaintive, ill-contained whimpers their every breath became.

" _OHH_ , FRISK." Though he was one easily grossed out, Papyrus approached the sick child on slightly wobbling legs, making the conscious decision not to breathe in through his nose as he closed the distance between them. "YOU POOR THING; YOU ARE MORE UNWELL THAN WE THOUGHT."

"What did you do to them...?"

The tall skeleton knelt at Frisk's side, ignoring the sickly mess inside the receptacle nearby as he reached his arms toward them. "WE MUST FIND YOU SOMEWHERE TO REST IMMEDIATEL-"

" _What did you DO TO THEM!?_ "

Alphys shrieked as thick, thorny vines suddenly burst out of the soil gathered in Flowey's pot. Papyrus cried out as those vines ensnared him, knocked him to the ground, wrapped around him like a den of snakes. Sans, for whom this was the last straw, found his left socket burning as he rushed to aid his brother, only to have two more vines coil around his arms, holding him back, pinning him down. Frisk remained where they were. Flowey's easily contortable face was contorted with blind, burning rage.

" _You POISONED them, DIDN'T YOU?!_ " he screeched. " _You're trying to KILL THEM, AREN'T YOU?!_ "

"wh-what are you talking about?!" Sans demanded, sweat drenching his skull as he struggled to wrest his arms free of his thorny binds. "why the hell would we even consider that!?"

"F-FLOWEY, P-PLEASE STOP," Papyrus pleaded, the sound mangled by the vines around his throat. "Y-YOU'RE HURTING ME..!"

" _You were their FRIEND,_ " Flowey hissed, ignorant of all statements volleyed at him as the burning rage about him burned more intensely. " _They TRUSTED you. They've SACRIFICED for you. They LOVED you. And THIS is how you REPAY THEM?!_ "

Any cries of protest that tried to leave Papyrus were snuffed as the vines tightened around him. " _YOU'RE more of a SICK FREAK than I EVER WAS!!_ "

Alphys, helplessly unable to offer any help, lest she also find herself ensnared by the flower's fury, choked on horrified sobs. "O-Oh god F-Flowey p-p-please calm down!"

" _If THIS is how you treat the people you love-_ "

"flowey i swear to god if you don't let my brother go _this instant_ -"

" _-the people who LOVE YOU in return-_ "

"I...I C-CAN'T... _BREATHE_...S-STOP, PLEASE..!"

" _-THEN YOU DESERVE TO ROT AS MUCH AS I D_ -"

"Flowey _stop it_."

It was the softest voice in the room, the one most gentle command out of all the others issued, that stopped the furious flower's tirade. All bodies stiffened at the sound of it. All heads turned toward its origin. All eyes widened to see the small hand wrapped around one of the thorny vines ensnaring the skeletons, gripping it tightly, fervently.

"I get where you're coming from," Frisk continued in that same soft, gentle voice, the only part of them that had moved from their initial position being the hand that now unyieldingly gripped the vine. "But what you think's going on, isn't going on. We...We don't know what's happening to me. None of us do. That's why they brought me here. So that we can find out. They've done nothing but help and protect me. This...'gesture' is appreciated, but completely unnecessary. You're over-reacting, and need to calm down. And."

Their hand clenched so tightly around the vine, a tiny stream of blood trickled out of their fist. "Let. Them. _Go_."

Frisk spoke with patience and understanding beyond their years. It shook everyone to their core. They stayed in their initial position. They kept their grip on the vine unyielding. A still, tense moment of silence passed.

...

...

...

...

"...... _Dammit._ "

Frisk's grip on the vine remained unyielding as the ones ensnaring Sans and Papyrus completely loosened, and the skeletons were freed. Sans immediately rushed to Papyrus' aid. "you okay, bro?" he asked as he helped the taller skeleton into a sitting position.

Papyrus, who was breathing heavily and rubbing earnestly at his throat, boasted a prideful smirk. "NYEH, I'LL ADMIT THAT IT WAS A LITTLE SCARY AT FIRST, BUT I _KNEW_ FLOWEY WOULDN'T DO A VIOLENCE!"

Sans stiffened, then let out a nervous chuckle. "heh, sure wish i had your confidence sometimes, bro."

Frisk pulled their hand away as Flowey retracted the vines back fully into his pot. A weary, yet relieved moan left Alphys' mouth, and she all but collapsed over her computer desk. "Oh, th-thank _god_ that's over."

After sparing a moment to calm herself down, Alphys looked over at Flowey, who suddenly looked a lot smaller and refused to look anyone's way. She then turned her gaze down and found Frisk, who remained slumped against the desk and was staring idly at the bleeding cut along their palm.

"...I should get something for that," she said more to herself than to anyone else, and shuffled off toward the room where she kept medical supplies. She paused after three steps, and as an afterthought, went back to retrieve the trash can, avoiding looking at or breathing in a nose-full of its smelly, sickly contents as she busied along.

Sans watched her leave, finding himself awed both at how she'd been able to handle a certain flower for as long as she has, and at how a certain child was able to instantly wrangle in that flower, even in the fits of a powerful, primal rage. The latter looked small now; so small and non-threatening it was difficult to believe he was anything more than a simple, sentient flower.

But Sans knew better. Sans knew what that simple, sentient flower was capable of. Knew vaguely of the acts he committed before a certain child came along-

"NYEH HEH HEH, YOU WERE BEING DISHONEST AGAIN, FLOWEY."

Sans looked to Papyrus in surprise. Flowey barely turned his head so that only one thin, black eye and a single brow arched in mild intrigue could be seen on his face.

A sly expression on his skull, Papyrus stated, "YOU CLAIM YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT US OR ANYTHING ELSE, BUT THAT IS NOT ENTIRELY TRUE, IS IT? I CAN TELL. YOU _DO_ CARE ABOUT SOMEONE OTHER THAN YOURSELF."

His gaze shifted decidedly downward. "AND THEIR NAME RHYMES WITH 'RISK'."

For a moment, all Flowey did was turn his head to follow Papyrus' gaze. Then, little by little, his face morphed from blank neutrality to horrified surprise, like that of a child that got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. For just a fleeting moment, he looked embarrassed.

Before any red could start tinting his cheeks, however, Flowey snapped his face back toward Papyrus, expression furious, and hissed. Literally. Like a cat. It was almost comical. But no chuckles resulted from the flower's indignant actions. For movement came from the floor beneath him, movement in the form of a subtly trembling hand reaching up, grabbing his pot around the rim, then lifting it off the desk.

"AND, NYEH," Papyrus observed as Flowey was lifted, brought down, then nestled in Frisk's lap. "IT IS APPARENT THAT THAT SAME SOMEONE CARES ABOUT YOU, TOO."

Frisk silently encircled their arms around Flowey's pot. Flowey's expression became blankly neutral once again. Neither of them would look at each other, neither would they look at anyone else.

Sans found himself frowning at this.

It was with good timing that Alphys returned, having exchanged the soiled trash receptacle for a first aid kit. "Whew! A-All this excitement sure wakes you up better than coffee does, huh?" she commented, trying to lighten the mood. Based on everyone's expressions, it didn't work well. After awkwardly clearing her throat, she walked over and knelt down beside Frisk. "A-Alright, then, l-let's take care of that...little..."

She paused after taking Frisk's injured hand in hers. She stared down at it for several an unblinking second, expression unreadable. Then, without a word, she quickly laid her palm against the child's forehead, then against their cheek.

"...whatsa matter?" Sans hesitantly wondered as Alphys' face went gaunt. "they burnin' up?"

When Alphys next spoke, her voice was so small Sans and Papyrus had to lean in to catch the words she whispered.

"No. They're... _freezing_."

 

\----

Needing to be kept on 24/7 meant that the tower of monitors gave off a ridiculous amount of heat. At least, that's what Alphys claimed. She also claimed that, because of this, you shouldn't be as cold as you were when she first laid her hands upon you. And yet, you are. At least, you think you are. You can't tell. Perhaps you ought take that as a warning sign. Or at least feel a little more concerned about your current health predicament.

But no. All you're focusing your attentions on is the potted flower you've, since realizing he's really here, and not just some product of your sickness-riddled imagination, refused to let out of your sights.

You and he are sitting on the small sofa Alphys asked Sans and Papyrus to help her bring out from a recreation room somewhere else in the lab. The sofa is seated near the monitor monolith, and you're wrapped up in the biggest, warmest blanket Alphys was able to find. This blanket cocoon and the placement of the sofa were all strategic maneuvers; it was imperative that you'd get your core body temperature elevated, as Alphys said.

It's honestly impossible for you to tell if it's working or not.

You refuse to turn your attentions away from Flowey.

You vaguely acknowledge Sans asking Alphys for a word in private, leaving Papyrus in charge of both watching over you, and making sure Flowey doesn't try anything in his absence. You feel someone give your head a gentle stroke, and don't bother to check if it's your 'aunt' or your 'brother'. You refuse to turn your attentions away from Flowey, though he seems keen on keeping his off of you.

"...YOU MUST BE PARCHED," you hear Papyrus say after an unknown time passed after Alphys and Sans left to have their private conversation. "I SHOULD GET YOU SOME WATER. WOULD YOU LIKE SOME, TOO, FLOWEY?"

You watch the flower you face glance Papyrus’ way, then hear him give a noncommittal grunt.

"I SHALL BE RETRIEVING WATER FOR BOTH OF YOU, THEN! NYEH HEH HEH!" With that, you hear his purposeful footsteps take him farther and farther away.

It's not until after you both know that he's no longer nearby that you see Flowey visibly relax. "Urgh, _finally_!" he says as he makes a show of stretching himself. "I thought he'd never leave!"

You don't say anything.

He looks to you, his lips curled into a sly smirk. "Heh, don't get me wrong. He's still one of the better characters to mess around with, but that chipper attitude of his really gets boring after a while, doesn't it?"

You don't say anything.

He frowns at your silence. The smugness about him slowly fades, and he purposefully points his face in the direction of the small space between where the two of you sit.

"...I know that look," he professes in a small voice. "You must have thought up lots of compelling arguments to convince me to agree to staying up here. I mean, it's been, what, two years now? Heh, time really flies in a place where you have no real way of marking its passage."

You don't say anything.

"Well, sorry to burst your bubble, but this little...'excursion' changes nothing." He seems to sag a little as his frown deepens. "I made my choice long ago, and just like back then, nothing you say now's gonna make me changed my-whoa wait what're you doing?"

Flowey recoils from the calm red light your exposed soul sheds as if it's a poisonous mist. That's his initial response, anyway. Eventually, he grows accustomed to the light, straightens himself, stares studiously at that little red heart resting in your palm. You silently watch him as he silently studies your soul. Then he angles his head slightly upward, staring you dead in the eye as he arches a brow in suspicion.

"Am I supposed to be impressed or something? 'Cause I'm not. I've seen that thing a thousand times already. It's not much to look at, honestly."

"You don't sense anything different about it?" you finally ask, unable to raise your voice above a conspiratorial whisper your throat's too sore to manage anything louder.

Flowey's features smooth over in surprise. He looks back and forth between your face and your soul for a few moments, then rests his gaze on your face, his own containing furrowed brows of anger. "Am I _supposed_ to?"

You silently gauge his reaction for a few loaded moments. Then you purse a frown.

You have so many things you've wanted to say to him, ever since the last time you saw him two years ago. So many questions formed, discussions planned out, far too many things left to say in just one sitting. But, with him being unable to run away, now that the two of you are all alone, and unknowing of when else you'll get another chance like this again...may as well start with one of the big ones, that at the same time, will no doubt be the most unexpected, far-fetched discussion in your arsenal.

"You knew, didn't you?" You bring your soul closer to your body, bathe your face in its warm red glow.

"You knew Chara was always in here."


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listening recommendation: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QvDuLVLVqqk  
> another included further in chapter

_"And get some rest, will you? You look absolutely miserable."_

_If only for the briefest of seconds, the human child hesitated before disappearing through the archway leading deeper into the Ruins, leaving behind the being they couldn't convince to go with them, and the patch of golden flowers that bore this being's likeness._

_Silence filled the Ruins._

_Golden flowers in a bed shifted in an un-felt, frankly impossible breeze._

_Golden petals emerged from the soil, followed quickly after by a thick green stem._

_The pure white stamen the petals surrounded bore a face. A face of intrigue. Of recognition._

_Of familiarity._

_"Hi," greeted a voice._

_The flowers seemed to bend toward the voice, as if returning that small greeting._

_"Seems as if everyone is perfectly happy," that voice casually continued. "Monsters have returned to the surface. Peace and prosperity will rule across the land."_

_A smile graced a face. "Take a deep breath. There's nothing left to worry about."_

_The flowers seemed to turn away, scoffing at the insincerity in that smile._

_That smile lessened. Two thin, coal black eyes looked off to one side. "...Well. There is one thing."_

_The flowers seemed to turn back, curious._

_"One last threat. One being with the power to erase EVERYTHING... Everything everyone's worked so hard for."_

_The flowers waited silently._

_"...You know who I'm talking about, don't you?" A head lowered, a smile slipped, brows knit together solemnly. "That's right. I'm talking about YOU."_

_The flowers waited silently._

_Two thin, coal black eyes stared off to the side once again. "YOU still have the power to reset everything. Toriel, Sans, Asgore, Alphys, Papyrus, Undyne... If you so choose... Everyone will be ripped from this timeline, and sent back before all of this ever happened."_

_The flowers seemed to turn away in indifference._

_"Nobody will remember anything. You'll be able to do whatever you want." That insincere smile appeared again. It didn't stay for very long. "...That power. I know that power. That's the power you were trying to stop, wasn't it? The power that I wanted to use. But now, the idea of resetting everything..."_

_The flowers waited silently._

_"I..." A face turned down low, became etched with lines of indescribable weariness. "I don't think I could do it all again. Not after that."_

_The flowers seemed to make mockery of the face's exhaustion._

_"...So, please." Weariness gave way to desperation. "Just let them go. Let Frisk be happy. Let Frisk live their life."_

_The flowers seemed disappointed._

_Desperation gave way to melancholy. "...But. If I can't change your mind, if you DO end up erasing everything... You have to erase my memories, too."_

_The flowers seemed intrigued._

_"...I'm sorry. You've probably heard this a hundred times already, haven't you...?"_

_The flowers waited silently._

_Melancholy gave way to resign. "...Well, that's all. See you later..._

_"Chara."_

_A thick green stem burrowed into the soil, followed soon after by a snow white stamen surrounded by golden petals._

_The flowers shifted again in the un-felt, impossible breeze before becoming still._

_It almost sounded like laughter._

 

\----

Flowey's face is currently composed of three straight, basic, expressionless black lines; the most rudimentary and easiest to pull of faces in his comparatively vast arsenal. He is completely still, so much so you wonder if he's turned himself to stone; more impossible things _have_ happened. The silence between you two is filled only by the clock's tick-tock, electricity's hum, and your shallow, ragged breaths.

"Wh...Wha...?"

The shock from your assumption seems to have faded away enough for him to attempt to form words. The sign you were waiting for so that you may continue assumption-making.

"There's a reason why you acted like I was your friend from long ago. It's because, from the moment I first found myself in the Underground, and for every moment and every reset after..."

Your fingers subtly close more around that curious little red heart in your palm that is your very essence, your very being, _you_.

"They've been here. Inside me. And you knew that." You turn your eyes onto his face, peer down at him. "Didn't you?"

He gapes up at you, mouthing words of utter befuddlement. His mouth's forming the words just fine; it's his voice that's failing in his express will to convey the, no doubt, storm of bewilderment behind those thin black eyes of his.

"Th...that...can't be..." His voice is distant when it returns; distant and small and choked with an unstable mix of shock and...anger? "That's...not possible..."

"More impossible things have happened."

He reacts to your simple reminder as though it were a sharp kick to the gut. Fury etches his face as he snaps his head up, glares at you with eyes full of writhing darkness. He opens his mouth to speak, but clenches it tightly shut when no words come.

He then turns his face down, eyes wandering and teeth chewing on his lower lip. He looks frustrated. And it's no wonder why. You decide not to further press the issue until he gets his thoughts sorted out. For there surely must be so much going through his-

"Hee hee hee hee hee. That's a joke, isn't it?"

...Not your first guess for his initial response, but an expected reaction nonetheless.

His mouth is curled into a twisted, wicked grin, the look in his eyes borderline psychotic. "You're screwing around with me; trying to get in my head and get me back for ever mistaking you for them in the first place! Well you can't fool me! I know the truth! Chara's gone! They've been gone for a long time! Do you hear me?! They're GONE! GONE GONE GONE GONE _GONE_!!!"

The fit of cackles he releases starts out strong, if not somewhat crazed, but falls apart quickly, warping into breathless gasps that convey horror, denial, hints of betrayal. "Th-They're... _gone_..."

You don't say anything.

His petals quiver as he turns his head down, eyes wide and horror-struck. "A-And...e-even if they _did_ come back...after all the times I've called out to them..."

He peeks up at you with forlorn eyes, slowly shaking his head. "Why would they...you... _why_...?"

You don't say anything, but make sure your face shows nothing but patience and understanding.

The conflicted flower is unable to keep your gaze for long. He sucks on his bottom lip and tightly closes his eyes, his head bending so low he almost kisses the sofa on which you both sit. He practically radiates despondency, melancholy. Eventual resign. Acceptance.

"...It's not that I knew they were in there," he confesses softly, a slight waver in his voice. "It's just, whenever you resetted...if only for a moment, I thought I felt their presence. And in the timelines when you killed... I could've sworn I felt their presence coming from you, more strongly."

You don't say anything.

"But it...it didn't feel _exactly_ like them. Something was off. But, looking back on it now..." A short, rueful chuckle comes from him. "Maybe...I wanted so much for that presence I felt to be them that I convinced myself that it _was_ them. Or maybe...I just went insane."

"...You didn't go insane."

It's not an immediate, knee-jerk reaction, but your quiet words of assurance cause him to straighten himself, to lift his head, to look at you in reserved anguish.

"It _was_ their presence you felt whenever I resetted, whenever I...killed." You hold back a grimace. "Because, like I said, they've been with me since the beginning. And it was because of them that I...struck everyone down. That I was able to reset at all. It all came from them. All that time...they were here."

He blinks heavily, eyes significantly widening afterwards. His interest in your soul returns, more intensely and fervently this time. His face is bathed in that warm red light it sheds, making it look curiously triumphant.

"...I knew it."

Despite yourself, you feel one corner of your mouth briefly twitch up in a smile.

He pulls his face out of the light your soul bears, his expression becoming uncharacteristically abash. "Is, um...are they...still there?"

Your attempted smile fades away. "...No." You're unable to meet his gaze as you return your soul to your chest. "They've...moved on."

You leave it at that. Things between Flowey and Sans are hostile enough as it is; best not add more fuel to the flames by telling Flowey just how Chara 'moved on'.

"...Hmm. Figured as much."

You peek back at him in surprise.

There's an air of smugness about him as he elaborates, "Back in the Underground, before things started going weird, there was this... _place_ where I could almost always feel their presence, even before you came along. I'm sure you know where I'm talking about."

You pause in consideration, then give a slight nod.

"Thought so. But, one day, after that seal-" A look of bitterness briefly crosses his features. "-went up, I couldn't really...feel them there anymore. That must've been the day they..."

He doesn't say anymore, and there's no need for him to. "Are you upset?"

He glances up at you, then scoffs. "Even if I _could_ be, why would I?"

"They were your friend. You were constantly calling out to them. You must've wanted so badly to see them again, talk with them again...properly say goodbye. They were here-" You lightly touch your fingertips to your chest. "-and now, they're gone. Doesn't that bother you?"

He stares thoughtfully at the placement of your fingers. His face then smooths over, and one corner of his mouth tugs up in a bittersweet grin. "Heh, it was probably for the best. In fact I...I envy them. They finally got to move on, while I'm still..."

You don't say anything, but feel an ache in your chest.

"They probably wouldn't've even wanted to talk to me anyway. They didn't seem too keen on chatting me up when they were..." He glances up at you in uncertainty, sees your unchanged expression, then looks away and nibbles on his lower lip. "Heh, Papyrus sure is taking his sweet time with that water, eh?”

You don't say anything. You and he both know he's being evasive.

You and he both know that evasiveness is for naught.

"...Why, Frisk?" Desperation creases his face as he meets your eyes in pleading. "Why did they come back? After all this time, why did they wake up? And why did they...choose you? Over all the other humans that fell? Over...me?"

Your head feels heavy as you turn it down. Your fingers lightly clench the layered fabrics covering your chest.

"You once asked me why I went to Mt. Ebott, despite the warnings that urged everyone to stay away from it. I didn't give you an answer back then, so let me give you my answer now. I sought out, climbed, and fell into the Underground...because I didn't want to, or plan on coming back."

He doesn't say anything.

"They chose me because, in me, they saw an opportunity. My determination both drove me over the edge and made sure I survived the fall. Because of my determination, they decided to make me their 'partner'. A partner they would exploit and, eventually, gain total dominance over mind, body, and soul."

"I always assumed that they stole your soul," Flowey quietly confesses. "That they were using it to pilot your body around and do whatever they wanted with it."

You weakly shrug one shoulder. "It was...sorta like that. But the truth is, when the two of you returned from the surface and died, through sheer determination alone...a fragment of their soul had broken off, survived, nestled in wait beneath the hole I fell from, and latched onto mine."

You hear the shifting of plant life, but nothing more.

"You told me that when you and Chara combined your souls together, the control over your body was split between the two of you. Both of your souls were whole and intact at that point, and you were aware of each other's actions when one of you was in control. But, with only a small fraction of their soul latched onto mine when they began possessing me..."

"...What was it like?" he morbidly encourages.

You finally start feeling cold.

"...From the start, I could hear their voice. It was always there, whispering to me, rationalizing my decisions to show violence, throwing doubt on my choices to show mercy. Little by little, they were wearing me down, making it easier to exploit me. Control me. Trap me within my own body. _Consume_ me. With every reset, with every kill, they grew stronger. While I...while I _drowned_ in the collective dust they made me turn everyone into over, and over, and over..."

"......There, there?"

You blink in surprise, and look back to Flowey. The words were hollow, and his smile cringe-worthily fake, but a spark of _something_ you see in his eyes makes the gesture feel genuine enough.

"I'm fine," you say softly (at least, more softly than previously). "I've had all of these past two years to come to terms with everything. And I had everyone with me to help me through it. I mean, though I explained it well enough, they'll never truly understand what I went through during the resets. But at the same time, it's nice knowing that they-"

"Wait." His expression slips, his petals bristle, and a mix of horror and rage washes over his face. "You... _told them_?"

"Only what I had done while under Chara's influence," you quickly clarify. "About who you _really_ are, my lips will remain perpetually sealed. That is," you add, "unless _you_ want them t-"

"No." His tone remains hushed, but the fervent seriousness in it speaks volumes. "Never. I don't want them to know. I don't _ever_ want them to know. And _you're_ not gonna tell them. Got it?"

You make a show of zipping your lips, locking them up, and throwing away the key. The action saps you of far more stamina than you anticipated for.

With the way his eyes scrutinize you, apparently your dip in stamina was more obvious than you tried not to let it be. "You said they moved on, right?"

You nod, though it's somewhat hesitant.

"Then, does that mean..." He seems to perk up, something akin to hope creeping into his voice. "...no more resets?"

It's with no trace of hesitance that you smile, and shake your head. "No more resets."

He looks like he's thinking this over, presses his lips together in a small line, and turns his head away from you. "Why'd you tell me about all this, huh?" he asks, a bitter smirk creeping into his voice. "Was it just to see my reaction?"

With a shrug, you tell him, "Because you deserve to know. Simple as that."

It's quiet for a while, then you hear an odd sound emanating from Flowey. A short chirp; something between a chuckle and a sigh. Difficult to place, but if you had to hazard a guess, it almost sounded...relieved.

"...So why are _you_ here, then?" He turns back to face you, a frown and brows furrowed in puzzlement on his face. "Smiley T-... _Sans_ said there was something going on with you. Is that why you look so miserable? But you're in the wrong place if you think Dr. Alphys can help with..." He sticks out his tongue and makes a gagging sound. "She's not _that_ kind of doctor, idiot."

You haven't really considered it before now, but his assumption makes the cogs in your mind turn. The currently unexplainable occurrences happening to you - the sleep-walking(?), waking up Underground, the gaps in your memory, the pain in trying to remember, the strange-feeling areas on your face - and the issues with your health - your weakness and lethargy, your current inability to feel hot or cold, becoming nauseated to the point of vomiting just from the faint smell of food wafting in from deeper in the lab. You thought they were separate occurrences, but maybe...

With stiff-feeling joints, you turn your head down and look to your now bandaged hand. Before, you hadn't realized how tightly you were gripping Flowey's vine until _after_ you pulled away and saw blood. Even then, you felt no pain from it. Even now, no pain.

The unexplainable and your poor health...could they be connected?

More impossible things _have_ happened, as you recall.

"Because..." As you hear the unmistakable sound of Papyrus' footsteps growing closer, you numbly tell Flowey, "There's a very real possibility that Chara never truly left."

 

\----

Sans cast one last lingering glance at the scene behind him before following Alphys outside.

The small patch of land in the middle of Alphys' squarely-structured lab had become choked with the cold glare of science. Solar panels cloaked the walls and windows, littered the ground, were plastered across every square foot of the roof. Coils of cords of varying sizes trailed from each panel, snaked along the ground, ventured in through open doors where they hooked up and gave power to the monitor monolith and other electronic devices inside.

Sans didn't like this change of scenery. Each trace of machinery in this once calm, idealistic patch of nature felt like a tumor.

"I k-know it's not pretty to look at," Alphys said after taking notice of his subtle change of expression. "A-And it's even harder to safely navigate - watch your step; I usually trip around there. B-But this is really the most I can do, given the circumstances. G-Go ahead and have a seat while I perform maintenance on these guys."

Sans didn't reply, but was careful as he sidestepped around a particularly thick cord cutting through a patch of violets.

"It's not like I can siphon energy straight from the Core, either," Alphys idly conversed as she worked. "L-Like I said, I could only stay in there long enough to hook up the sensors; I couldn't find out why it's running at full capacity, who or what had caused it so, or try to shut it down. Th-The atmosphere in there was just too... _oppressive_. Felt like I was g-going to be ripped apart just from standing too close..."

A shudder ran along her spine. Sans made no remark.

"And, b-besides, I wouldn't trust that unknown energy building up down there to power my top-side equipment. N-Not until I can determine what we're dealing with down there, at least. S-So, this-" She gestured broadly to the solar panels and cords. "-is the next best thing. But, lemme tell you, i-it's been a real pain in the neck having to deal with the fluctuating weather patterns up here. And it's even worse at night; been a real... _night_ mare, aheh heh heh. Heh. Heh..."

No response, nor reaction.

Alphys frowned deeply. "Are, uh, a-are you okay, Sans?"

 

> _writer's note: listening recommendation:<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eKKJ72i9QeU>_

 

Sans sat at the metal bench with one arm draped over its back, and one laying against his leg. The unique sound of bone against bone was heard as he tapped one skeletal finger against his kneecap. His sockets were trained upon the ground at his feet. He looked distracted.

Alphys loudly cleared her throat. Sans blinked, but didn't otherwise react. "doin' just fine, alph," he answered, sounding as distracted as he looked. "why d'you ask?"

"Well, y-you said you wanted t-to talk with me. But y-you haven't. Really. Said anything. You d-didn't even crack a grin at my, er, j-joke just now..."

Sans' finger-tapping ceased. He blinked again. "oh. sorry. heh, nice one."

Alphys frowned even more deeply. That was an ill attempt at sincerity.

Sans knew it, too. He looked over his shoulder at her and gave her a genuinely apologetic smile. "sorry, alph. imma just wait for you to get done what you need to get done; we'll talk afterwards."

He turned his skull back to its previous position, and said nothing more. Alphys sighed inwardly and returned to her work.

Beneath the shady birch was stationed another panel, but not one whose function it was to absorb solar energy and convert it into energy of the electrical variety, but rather to monitor how much energy was being absorbed, converted, and how much - if any - could be stored for later use. Alphys approached this panel now, after making sure all the cords and cables were still where they were meant to be, that none of them were damaged, etc. She stooped down, opened the panel up, checked the numbers. As she suspected, there was enough energy being absorbed and converted to keep the monitors and her computer running, with only about 42% not being used going into surplus.

Alphys groaned softly. 42% was just enough energy to get them through another night, but it'd really be scraping the bottom of the barrel. She really needed to up proficiency if she was to keep surveillance on the Underground running smoothly, until she could deduce just _what_ was going on down there and, hopefully, fix it. Lest she risk another short-circuit and subsequent power outage.

She closed the panel, mentally jotting down notes as she stood and dusted herself down. Her work done for the time being, she turned, walked up to Sans, and sat down, a modest distance between the two of them.

"R-Really, Sans," she hesitantly urged. "Are you alright?"

A long, weary sigh came from the skeleton as he leaned his head back, and massaged the inner corners of his eye sockets with a forefinger and thumb. "i'm just...reaching my limit at how many surprises i can take in one day."

Alphys chuckled sympathetically, and just as sympathetically reached over and patted his shoulder.

Sans half grinned. That only lasted until his hand left his face, and he turned to stare at Alphys in uncharacteristically sharp seriousness.

" _why_ , alphys?" he began, a hint of desperation in his voice and expression. "you saw what he just did to me and pap. you know what he was going to do to my brother if frisk hadn't stopped him. that pot isn't protecting you from anything; he can dust you without batting an eyelash while your back is turned at any given moment. i can understand if he was threatening you into helping him, but seein' you two acting so casual back in there...i just can't wrap my mind around it. why are you so willingly- _eagerly_ helping him, alph?"

Alphys held his gaze for a minute, studying every detail of his expression, before meekly looking down at her lap. "Y-You really don't like him, h-huh?"

Sans stiffened. Something in the tone of her voice kept him from giving her an answer, vocal or otherwise.

"I-I understand why'd you be so callous toward him after seeing what he almost did to Papyrus, and maybe after seeing him, uh, top-side. But..." She shrugged lightly. "I don't know why, but, I f-feel like there's more to it than that. I mean, P-Papyrus and Frisk looked happy to see him; Frisk especially. But, aheh, th-that may just be because they're Papyrus and Frisk." She shrugged again. "But with you...I j-just get the feeling that there's more of a reason behind why y-you behave the way you do with him around." She looked back over to him. "I-Is there?"

Sans stared at her in neutral consideration. Then he sighed, leaned his head back against the bench, and ran a hand down his face. "it's...complicated. and not really my place to talk about."

It really was. Nevermind what had happened the last time he (and everyone else) encountered Flowey in the Underground; the true cause behind his blatant hostility toward that flower laid in a time long before that moment. Long before the course of Frisk's resets. Long before Frisk even fell into the Underground. That time was a hazy memory at best, but it was strong enough to make him hyper-cautious whenever that flower was involved. Made him want to give that flower a very, very bad time...

And then there was Frisk. Frisk, who had dangerously pushed their small, frail, illness-crippled body past the point of safety, just so they could hug that flower. Frisk, who had completely disregarded all concerns for their security and well-being and purposefully hurt themself, just to stop that flower from doing the irreversible. Frisk, who had lifted and held that flower in their arms, as if _he_ was the one in need of protection. Poor, sick little Frisk, sitting plainly beside him, looking totally at ease with his presence, despite everything...

It made him recall a conversation he had, somewhat accidentally, listened in on. Two children standing before a flower patch. One human, one monster. One, he had followed out of his own personal lack of trust. The other, he saw bear an uncanny resemblance to two former royals, heard him speak about another human, a failed plan, about who he really was, and what he became as a result of that failed plan.

Knowing what he was capable of, while at the same time knowing who he truly was; to say it made Sans really conflicted about how he should treat that flower now would be the understatement of the millennium.

Mercifully, Alphys didn't push the subject any further. "Th-That's fair, I guess."

Sans relief was unabashedly obvious.

Now, it was Alphys' turn to lean her head back against the bench. She removed her glasses, briefly rubbed her closed eyelids before replacing them, and stared wearily at the blue sky up above.

"It was just like you guessed, Sans. At first, I was only helping him because I felt threatened. He trapped me - out here, no less - when he first sought out my help. N-Not that I really blame him for so quickly resorting to that; the first word from him had me screaming bloody murder and trying to run for the hills, aheh heh." She absentmindedly rubbed her nose. "Even though he was quick to assure me that he wasn't going to, erm, k-kill me, I _was_ constantly checking my back in the beginning, like you said. It, uh, kinda made it hard to focus on getting everything in there going. Flowey noticed. Th-That's when he suggested the pot, a-and offered to watch the monitors for me while I got some sleep, got food into my system, etc. And all he ever really wanted in return was to be kept completely in the loop and properly hydrated. Didn't want to 'keel over when something interesting happens', as he put it.

"As t-time went on, he became more civil and cooperative. He actually helped me with getting the sensors in the Core set in place. He also started showing actual interest in the mechanics behind everything. It's p-probably bad of me to say this, b-but as time went on, I got excited about doing all of this. B-Because it feels so important that I get this done, th-that I save my old home from potential disaster. Plus it's, uh, b-been a while since I had something _big_ to work on; I missed the feeling. Aheh heh heh. ...Yeah. Th-That was pretty bad of me to say. Sorry."

She looked down at her claws, which were fiddling absentmindedly with the hem of her coat sleeves. "B-But, more than that, more than threats and excitement and wanting to feel like I'm doing something important again... I think the real reason why I'm helping Flowey is because I owe him that much."

Sans had remained courteously still and quiet throughout Alphys' explanation up until this point. With this confession, his sockets widened in surprise. " _owe_ him? why?"

Alphys clasped her claws together in her lap. They were subtly trembling. "B-B-Because I...I created him."

Sans' arm on the back of the bench slipped off, fell, and landed on the space between him and the scientist.

"B-Back when I was st-still the Royal Scientist, I was trying to discover a way in which to d-destroy the barrier without having to rely on using the human souls. Th-That's how the Amalgamates c-came into being. B-Because of my experiments with d-determination from the human souls we already had. Y-You already know this story, yeah? Everyone does now, aheh. B-But what I d-didn't really make public was that, along with the Amalgamates, m-my experiments created another unique being.

"M-My initial hopes in injecting monsters that had 'fallen down' with determination was that their s-souls would survive beyond death, l-like human souls do. A-And, when they would, ahem, 'move on', the souls would be powerful enough to act in place of the human souls. B-But, since monsters cannot absorb another monster's soul, I-I would need a vessel to hold the souls. S-Something that was...neither human nor monster."

"flowey," Sans breathed.

Without looking up, Alphys nodded. "Th-There was a special flower g-growing in the King's garden; the first golden flower that bloomed before all the others. I injected that flower with determination, I gave it the w-will to live. It gained sentience. A-And thus, Flowey came into being."

Sans stared blankly ahead, puzzle pieces to incomplete theories in his mind finally falling into place.

"E-Everything he said in there is true, y'know. H-He can't feel happiness, or sorrow, or anger, or _anything_. He doesn't have a soul. I created a sentient being without a soul. N-None of my control cases showed these symptoms, s-so it remains a perpetual mystery why only he gained sentience."

Sans almost said something, but held his tongue. Even though he didn't have one.

"He can't feel anything, b-but...he _wants_ to. I know he does. Th-That's why he acts the way he acts; that's my hypothesis, at least. He k-keeps trying to make himself feel something - _anything_ \- b-but he _can't_ , no matter how hard he tries. A-And he knows that, too, I bet. That's why he d-denies any sympathy given to him. B-Because he doesn't want to feel pitied, e-even though he c-can't. B-B-Because of what I did to him... B-Because I-I created him t-to be a _soulless abomination_ -!"

At this point, the subtle trembles of Alphys' claws that had been steadily spreading across her body were now making her shake so much, the bench vibrated beneath her. Both these things suddenly stopped once she felt the cool touch of bone across her clasped hands. She blinked in surprise, then looked up to see Sans grinning at her. He didn't say a word; the kind curve of his grin and the reassuring squeeze his fingers gave her were enough.

Alphys sniffled, and did her best to return that smile. She spent a moment to dry the mysteriously accumulated tears around her eyes with the hem of her sleeve before continuing. "I've already come clean with the Amalgamates to everyone. Th-They're living with their families now, and they're all happy. I've made my peace with that. But, with Flowey..."

She blew out a sigh and rubbed her nose again. She looked defeated and ashamed. "I...I _want_ to help him. T-To make up for what I did to him; to do something more than what he's already asked me for help with. I-I once asked him if there was anything I c-could do with his, uh, condition, b-but he told me that I already knew the answer to that. And, th-the worst part is, I do. He c-considers himself a sick freak of nature that never should've existed. He w-wanted this 'p-project' to be on the down-low, wanted him being on the surface to be on the down-low, too. He just wants to be left alone when all this is done, to be forgotten. A-And I just feel so...so _bad_ for him, for what I did to him. And if I c-can't change his mind, i-if that's what he truly wants...then shouldn't I, as his creator, _need_ to help him? I-Is it my obligation?"

Alphys looked to Sans, genuinely desperate for advice. That lost, helpless look on her face was confirmation for the skeleton that he made the right choice in withholding Flowey's true identity from her. She felt bad enough as it was; telling her that she managed to resurrect monster kind's prince as a soulless flower would only serve to make her feel worse.

He blew out a long sigh, and turned his face skyward. "alph...i really don't believe this to be a case of duty or obligation. you said you wanted to help him, right? that should be reason enough."

Alphys blinked quickly, looking a little dumbstruck. "Y-You're okay with that?"

"this ain't about me, now is it? how i feel about him shouldn't be a deciding factor," he said dismissively, but there was sternness about him as he met her gaze. "alph, you know he can be dangerous if he puts his mind to it. i'm not saying you should trust him completely, but if you're okay with being around him...i'll put in the effort to be more tolerant toward him. fair warning, though, if he tries to pull another stunt like that on you, or me, or pap, or frisk..."

Alphys quickly got the message as light started leaving Sans' sockets. "G-Got it!"

The lights returned. Sans turned his gaze skyward again. He listened quietly as electricity hummed, the wind blew, a water feature babbled. He heard a distant birdsong.

"Is, um, i-is that all y-you wanted to talk about?" Alphys asked, shifting nervously in her seat.

Sans' pupils went dim again. "no." Without looking her way, he grabbed what was tucked up under his arm, then held it out to the side. "i also wanted you to take a look at these."

Alphys accepted what was offered, unfurled it, and awkwardly held the blueprints in front of her face. Sans watched as she looked them over, her eyes darting this way and that behind her glasses. At one point, she lifted them off her face and squinted closely at the blueprints before lowering them back down, and frowning deeply.

"Yikes," was the first word out of her mouth. "A-And I thought _my_ handwriting was bad."

Sans wheezed a chuckle of agreement, but did nothing more.

"There's something... _familiar_ about it, though..." She lingered on the near illegible writing near the center of the paper before looking to Sans, hints of suspicion in her frown. "Wh-Where did you say you got these?"

For the longest time, Sans didn't answer. When he did, his voice was tense and full of strain. "...in the basement of mine and pap's old house back in snowdin. in which i had set up a workshop."

Alphys' brows rose up her forehead. "You had a basement? A-And a workshop??"

"yup." A sweat began to coat his skull. "apparently."

"...Ap-pparently?"

Sans let out a heavy exhale, propped his elbows on his knees, then his face in his hands. His head felt sore. "apparently...i had forgotten it even existed; like there was a basement-shaped hole in my mind. and it more than likely would've stayed forgotten and non-existent to me, if frisk hadn't mentioned it back then..."

When he had left the Snowed Inn earlier that day, his first destination was to that area in Waterfall, where he dreamed(?) about that grey door and the oppressive nothingness beyond it. However, it was with mixed feelings that he found that the dream(?) had not been prophetic; no beckoning door nor even an elongated hallway awaited his arrival. Afterwards, he wanted to see if, just as with his magic, his shortcut-taking abilities worked better than they did before.

He almost ended up taking a dip in Hotland's lava as a result, as his brother later on suspected.

Shortcuts went completely off the table at that point. By some small act of dumb luck, he had found the Riverperson's boat at the Hotland dock, and rode it along the river back to Snowdin. Before returning to the inn to give his report, he investigated the basement room a certain child had told him about. To be perfectly candid, he had no idea what to expect upon entering that room. Sure, he expected the things Frisk told him about - a photo album, blueprints, a machine - but a great many unknowns were still present once he opened the door.

Capital among those unknowns was the strange feeling that overwhelmed him from just looking at it.

It felt _wrong_ to be in there. Like he was trespassing on some private, sacred ceremony. It made his skull ache. Made something, somewhere in parts unknown in his mind try to make itself manifest. Like a memory. But trying to call it forth served only to make his head ache even worse, like it was going to crack and splinter and break.

Like he was not _supposed_ to remember.

He barely stayed in that room for more than half a minute, forty-five seconds tops. He didn't even check out everything the room had to offer; the blueprints on the counter and the curtain in the corner had an almost immediate gravitational pull on him, while at the same time made the ache in his skull worsen. One pain-inducing glance behind the curtain revealed a rusty machine that appeared to be broken. A quick once-over of the diagrams on the blueprints made the connection that they were of the broken machine, while trying to decipher the strange handwriting gave him a migraine the size of Mt. Ebott.

He left the workshop with those blueprints at hand; they had to connect _somewhere_ in this whole convoluted mess he was now thoroughly involved in. That he was now thoroughly involving Alphys in. Just stealing a quick glance at that blue color now made that sharp ache in his head present itself again. Better to have someone with more of a chance to make heads or tails of those mysterious designs to take a look at them, understand them, explain them. She _was_ the Royal Scientist for a reason, after all.

Alphys carefully studied the skeleton's guarded demeanor for a spell, looked back to the blueprints, then breathlessly chuckled. "T-Too many surprises in one day, right?"

Sans chuckled back. It was weary, but genuine.

"I-I'll be sure to study these more carefully later," she promised as she rolled the papers back up, and Sans lifted his face from his hands. "For now, I r-really need to know something: what's going on with Frisk? Y-You said you think it's something only I can help with, b-but you're really looking in the wrong place if you think I can help with..." The brief look of disgust and sympathy that crossed her face filled in the words left unspoken. "I'm n-not _that_ kind of doctor."

"i know you're not," Sans assured her. "and trust me, helpin' the kid with their health issues is one of our top priorities. but the reason we brought them here, why we need your help..."

He trailed off, finding himself surprisingly at a loss to how to explain the string of unexplainable events that occurred before he and his brother brought Frisk here, sought out the scientist's help, walked in on and got derailed by Flowey's presence and dilemma...

An idea sparked in his mind. "say. d'you happen to record everything those monitors pick up?"

 

\----

"Oh my god."

"Whoa."

After fiddling with the monitors labeled 'tundra_iceentrance', 'tundra_icehole', and 'tundra_poffzone', Alphys was able to rewind the footage back to several hours ago. At first, nothing unusual popped out. The final tile puzzle remained solved. The snow poffs outside Greater Dog's old sentry outpost remained in their usual poffy shape. Snow-Papyrus and Sans' snow lump remained as heroic and lumpy as ever, respectfully. All present watched fervently as the image on the monitor labeled 'tundra_iceentrance' briefly, silently drowned in black and white snow.

Then, after the static cleared, Sans, Papyrus, Alphys, Frisk, and Flowey were able to watch the events that unfolded several hours ago.

"N-No wonder they're so cold," Alphys commented as the trio of Frisk, Sans, and Papyrus became entangled in the tunnel of trees just outside Snowdin.

"...Sweet catch," Flowey commented as Papyrus' heroics were observed.

"NYEH, THANK YOU," Papyrus proudly replied.

"W-Wait, hold on." Alphys inserted a few commands into a keyboard, which paused the playback on the three screens. "H-How did you three end up back Underground? And, erm, wh-why'd you end up there?"

"Hmph. One of your 'shortcuts' gone awry, Smiley?" Flowey scoffed.

"no," Sans answered, perhaps a little too quickly, too angrily. "keep watchin'."

Alphys resumed the playback. Seconds after Papyrus skidded to a halt on the rocky outcropping on monitor 'tundra_icehole', the images on monitors 'tundra_iceentrance' and 'tundra_poffzone' briefly went black. Half a second later, the images returned, but showed change; Sans was now knee-deep in a poff outside Greater Dog's doghouse instead of entangled in the branches of the tree tunnel.

" _that's_ what one of my shortcuts looks like," Sans explained as Alphys paused the playback again. "except, that time, something went wrong. i was supposed to end up over with pap and frisk, not gettin' cold feet in poff central."

"Maybe you're just losing your touch," Flowey sneered.

"O-Or, maybe," Alphys quickly interjected, "th-this is an Underground-only problem? Like with y-your magic?"

Sans shook his head. "my magic worked just fine later, when we were in the inn. it was just right then that it failed to work. with the shortcuts i-wait. hold on..."

With one finger held up in a 'give me a moment' gesture, Sans walked toward where the lab's front doors were. He rounded a corner, and barely a second later, he emerged from behind the monitor monolith, a steamy cup of instant ramen in his hand, and a halfway satisfied, halfway perplexed expression on his face. "okay. shortcut problem is an underground-only issue."

Alphys' mental gears turned as Sans retreated himself back around the monitor monolith, then rounded the corner a second later, sans steamy instant ramen cup. As he rejoined the group, the light bulb going off in her mind was almost as audible as it was obvious in her expression. "Spacial anomalies."

As eyes looked her way in varying levels of intrigue, Alphys was practically bouncing off the walls in the excitement her apparent epiphany brought. "Oh my god I got it. I got it! It's like with the save points! That's what the weirdness is!"

Flowey bristled. Papyrus looked confused. Only Sans seemed to be somewhat wise to what Alphys was talking about. "the save points?"

"You remember when we talked about them before, right?" Alphys elaborated, talking very quickly in the fits of her excitement. "We theorized that they were small, localized tears in the fabric of spacetime that, with the necessary amounts of determination, would remember those who could interact with them. To, er, 'save' their progress should anything happen later on! We never got to test that out for obvious reasons. But! But what if those little spacetime tears are _growing_?"

Sans stared at her blankly. "uh, gonna need a little more to go on here, alph."

Alphys adjusted her glasses before continuing. "You've noticed that none of the monitors are hooked up to the cameras that're at the Core, yeah? See, the thing is that they're meant to be fully operational when the Core's operating at regular capacity. But the truth is, after I tried to hook that camera system up with the monitors I've got here, all the screens showed was static. I thought that it was just a coincidence; that the system was buggy after months of disuse. But now! After seeing what happens when you take one of your 'shortcuts', I think that the 'weirdness' is tears in spacetime!"

Sans sockets widened as things clicked into place in his head. "spacial anomalies..."

"Y-You seem to be bending space when you use your 'shortcuts'; even though you didn't end up where you intended to, you still safely ended up somewhere nearby. What if the reason it didn't work properly back Underground is because space itself is getting distorted back Underground?"

The light bulb going off in his mind was almost as audible as it was obvious in his expression. "the energy build-up in the core; could it really be enough to warp space itself?"

"Th-That's what I'm starting to theorize!"

"static garbled the feedback just before the three of us dropped in-"

"-Whereas the screen only went dark when you 'shortcut-ed'!"

"i was doing it safely-"

"-Whereas you three haphazardly dropped in!"

"time's not being screwed with-"

"-Space is!"

"It still doesn't explain _how_ you three morons 'dropped in' in the first place."

Flowey's snarky comment roused Sans and Alphys from their heated discussion. They blinked, finding themselves standing a little closer to each other than before the theories started being voiced. Sans took a small step back, and Alphys fiddled with her glasses.

"You said it wasn't your doing, Smiley," Flowey continued. "So either you're lying about that, or someone else has special 'shortcut' powers. Which we both know is impossible."

Sans cast a scathing glare in the flower's general direction, then noticed his brother's demeanor, and softened. "you're lookin' a little lost there, pap. sorry if we went too fast for ya."

"NO, IT'S ALRIGHT," Papyrus assured him. "I THINK I UNDERSTAND THE GENERAL LOGIC."

Sans frowned at the distracted tone in Papyrus' voice. "then what's with that look, bro?"

Papyrus' jaw tensed. He began rubbing his hands together. The look on his face that was directed toward the sofa intensified. "IT'S A SILLY IDEA, BUT, MAYBE...COULD IT BE POSSIBLE THAT _FRISK_ WAS THE ONE THAT USED A 'SHORTCUT'?"

Sans, Alphys, and Flowey stared at Papyrus as though he had just admitted his own cooking skills were cringe-worthily horrible.

"Wh..." muttered Alphys, the first to recover from the shock. "Wh-Why do you think...?"

Papyrus humbly looked down at his hands. "YOU THEORIZE THAT SPACE IS BECOMING DISTORTED, THAT MY BROTHER SAFELY BENDS SPACE IN ORDER TO USE HIS 'SHORTCUTS'. YOU SAW HOW MY BROTHER'S MAGIC WAS UNABLE TO FIND PURCHASE, EVEN THOUGH HE WAS SO INTENTLY FOCUSED ON FINDING IT. I STATED BEFORE THAT IT IS A SILLY IDEA BUT...IF FRISK HAD USED A SHORTCUT ON THEIR OWN, AND THEY DID SO UN-SAFELY...MAYBE THAT IS WHY MY BROTHER'S MAGIC DID NOT WORK? BECAUSE THEY DID NOT SAFELY 'SHORTCUT' US TO THE UNDERGROUND?"

There was a pause as mental gears churned, things clicked into place, ideas formed. Three monsters and a flower found their gazes turning to and resting on the small, bundled form on the sofa sitting before the plethora of screens everyone else stood before.

Frisk had not reacted once since moving their head ever so slightly so they could observe the record of the events that happened hours before, save for the small, queasy moan and shudder that prompted Sans to remove from their presence the intensified smell emanating from the instant ramen cup he had retrieved. Poor kid was struggling enough as it was to keep down the water Papyrus had brought them; having such strongly-smelling food nearby was just plain begging for another round of stomach-content emptying, which absolutely nobody wanted. Even as possibilities were explored, their name was constantly mentioned, impossible theories began revolving around them, Frisk's eyes remained glued to the monitors, their body still as stone, their entire demeanor as though they had not heard a single word uttered since it all began.

But they must've heard every word uttered. They must've known everyone was talking about them, forming theories about them, staring at them. For after everyone's eyes fell upon them, Frisk's head turned slightly downward, their eyes staring distantly through a small gap between the monitors. They looked somber, and still so sickly tired and pale...

"no," murmured Sans, his head shaking side to side in desperate denial. "that's...that's not possible..."

"More impossible things have happened."

Frisk's reminder was soft-spoken, barely heard, would've sounded more natural if someone far older and wiser beyond their young years had uttered it. It denied Sans' denial. It made him tense. It made him feel trapped. It made him realize an explanation was in order.

_"Hey, Sans, do you think you're ever gonna tell me how your 'shortcuts' work?"_

_"maybe one day, kiddo. maybe one day..."_

That day, he reluctantly accepted, was today.

"it requires concentration," he began evenly, his mind going through the careful process. "you have to know where you want to go. you have to visualize yourself there. you have to 'see' your destination, whether in your physical sight or your mind's eye. i say it's impossible for frisk because, above all else, it requires _magical_ energy. and the last time i checked, humans can't use magic."

"Neither can they reset time," sarcastically remarked Flowey after a brief lull. "And yet, here we are."

Sans almost said something, but stopped himself. That proved to be for naught when, in his stead, Papyrus hesitantly claimed, "THAT, WELL, THAT IS ONLY BECAUSE..."

Flowey glanced at the taller skeleton, then harrumphed indifferently. "Yeah yeah. Only because of Chara."

The name felt like a blow to the ribs. And the fact that Flowey, of all people, had been the one to say it - and so casually, too - made that blow make more of an impact.

Noticing everyone's expressions, Flowey harrumphed again. "Yeah, I know about that. So, again: either you're lying about it not being your doing, or someone else...has..."

The smugness about the flower fled, replaced with dawning realization. He looked back to Frisk, alarmed. "Is...Is that what you meant? When you said...?"

Sans also looked to Frisk, alarmed. What had the kid revealed to that flower in his absence? Did they tell him about...'them'? Did they-oh no. Were they starting to more thoroughly believe that the horrid possibility they raised before was the truth? That someone's been...?

Sans had his answer as Frisk's upper body drooped, as though an invisible weight had been lowered onto their shoulders.

"I. I think. I need to write all this out."

With that, Alphys excused herself to an adjacent room to the one everyone was gathered in. She soon returned, a squeaky-wheeled blackboard in tow. One side had the beginnings of plans for alternative energy options, the other was blank, save for some absentminded doodles in the bottom center. She erased those with her coat sleeve, then took a piece of chalk to map out two columns, each taking up one half of the board. One she titled 'Underground', the other 'Frisk'.

"Ok-kay," she stammered as the columns were completed, and expectantly looked to the skeleton brothers over her shoulder. "L-Let's start with you guys walking me through what happened b-before you, uh, 'd-dropped in'."

Flowey also looked to the brothers expectantly. Frisk slowly did, as well. But there was something else about them as they looked at the brothers, _their_ brothers. Something lost, helpless, desperate. And it was with this look that reaffirmed what had to be done. What Sans needed to do.

For their sake, he had to get to the bottom of this.

"IT BEGAN LATE LAST NIGHT, OR PERHAPS VERY EARLY THIS MORNING," Papyrus began. "SANS AND FRISK WERE ALREADY ASLEEP, WHILE I WAS PREPARING TO TURN IN MYSELF."

Alphys jotted down '-last night/early morning' on the 'Frisk' side of the board.

"i woke up," Sans continued, "and found frisk sleep-walking."

She added '-sleep-walking' to the list.

"BUT, BROTHER, YOU SAID THAT YOU WERE NOT ENTIRELY SURE THAT WAS THE CASE."

Alphys thought briefly to erase the last entry, but instead decided to add '(?)' to the end of it.

"yeah, i did, didn't-wait. there was something before that. after waking up and seeing them standing there, there was...static."

Papyrus cast a wary, somewhat suspicious glance at his brother. "YOU DID NOT MENTION THAT BEFORE."

Sans rubbed his head at the memory, gave Papyrus a somewhat abashed look. "didn't think it worth mentioning before. thought you had left the tv on, and the storm was causin' interference. but then, after hearing 'bout your dealings with static, alph..."

The two shared looks. With trembling hand, Alphys added '-static' to both columns, and drew an unsure line between the two.

"...Why'd you think it wasn't sleep-walking?" prompted Flowey.

"DOES IT HAVE TO DO WITH...'THAT'?" theorized Papyrus.

Sans could feel all eyes on him, just as he could feel 'that' burning a hole inside his jacket pocket. It had been one thing talking to Papyrus about it while an oblivious Frisk was present, but with an alert Frisk present, hanging onto every word he'd say...there'd be no avoiding it. It may just be the final piece of evidence the kid needed to confirm that horrid possibility, but he had to tell them. They deserved to know.

"...frisk had wandered outside. i followed them out. the reason why i no longer entirely sure they were sleep-walking is because, when i tried to wake you, frisk..."

It was with careful, sluggish movement that he removed the paper from his pocket, unfolded it, and refused to look Frisk in the eye as he held it out toward them. " _this_ is what your face looked like."

Flowey leaned forward. Alphys shuffled close. Papyrus remained as he was. As did Sans. All four faces showed varying degrees of grave shock or somber discomfort.

As for Frisk, when they looked upon and stared at the crayon sketch presented to them, their blank expression did not change, nor did they react outside of touching their fingertips to their face, just below their left eye.

"...IT WAS AFTER I FOUND THE TWO OF THEM OUTSIDE, AND TRIED TO BRING THEM BACK INSIDE, THAT EVERYTHING WENT DARK. AND THE NEXT THING WE KNEW, WE WERE BACK UNDERGROUND." Appearing the most uncomfortable out of the group, Papyrus looked to his brother. "SO THAT IS WHY IT APPEARED AS THOUGH YOU TWO WERE ENGAGED IN A STARING CONTEST. WHY YOU ASKED ME MY THOUGHTS ABOUT 'THAT'..."

Not looking his way, Sans solemnly nodded.

"Oh my god...Oh my _god_..."

Alphys stumbled back as though she'd just been stabbed. She started trembling. Her claws clamped down over her mouth. The look in her widened eyes suggested that she had come to a horrific realization. "You...Y-You don't think..."

She turned to Sans in desperate reassurance. "H-H-Has s-someone been... _possessing_ Frisk again?"

No words needed to be spoken. The way Sans' pupils darkened, and the way Frisk seemed to shrink in on themself was answer enough.

Alphys stumbled back further and collapsed into the chair by her computer desk. "Oh god..." Her eyes began to mist. "N-Not again..."

"THIS IS PRECISELY WHY WE HAVE SOUGHT OUT YOUR HELP, DR. ALPHYS," Papyrus proclaimed, trying to lift the mood with his hopeful tone. "MY BROTHER AND FRISK BELIEVE THAT ABSURD NOTION TO BE THE TRUTH. SO OF COURSE, THE MOST LOGICAL SOLUTION IS TO ELIMINATE THAT POSSIBILITY AS SOON AS POSSIBLE!"

"please, alph." Sans' pupils seemed to quiver as he turned to Alphys in desperate reassurance. "if anyone can find out what's happening to them, if 'it' _is_ happening again, it's you. you can help us-help frisk, right?"

Alphys looked to the skeletons as though they had just entered her lab, her movements languid. Then she looked to the behemoth of a surveillance system, then to the small, sickly child sitting in front of it. Her misty-eyed gaze lingered there before turning down to her lap. "I...I h-hear what you're saying," she muttered. "A-And I want to think I can help, b-but..."

A shudder ran down her spine. She removed her glasses and set them on the table beside her. It wasn't until after they were removed that it was obvious her eyes were bloodshot from exhaustion. She rubbed them gently, rubbed away the tears beginning to form in them. "I j-just...need a moment to p-process all this..."

The fear that Alphys was going to refuse to help them instantly vanished, leaving behind a small, sympathetic smile on Sans' face. "too many surprises in one day, right?"

"Mm-hmm," Alphys blearily replied.

Neither Sans nor Papyrus realized how much they needed this breather until they actually stopped to breathe. Though Papyrus looked a little impatient, he appeared more relaxed as he crossed over to the sofa and retrieved the halfway finished cup of water sitting on its cushion. When Frisk made no indication that they still wanted it, he walked off to return the cup to the lab's kitchen.

Sans let his arm drop, taking the view of his crayon sketch out of Frisk's line of sight. He, too, appeared more relaxed, despite the storm brewing in his skull. Briefly, he stared up at the ceiling and idly studied the patterns on it, then his eyes wandered to the blackboard Alphys had brought out, rested on the hesitant line connecting the 'Underground' column to the 'Frisk' column. No doubt those columns would be filled with nary a blank space left behind in the near future, and maybe, more lines connecting them would pop up, too. Was that mere conjecture, though? Were they just grasping at straws connecting the static Alphys had experienced with the static Sans had?

Static.

Weirdness.

Sleep-walking.

Spacial anomalies.

Darkness.

Memory loss.

A face.

That face.

That _face_...

Sans didn't realize he'd been unwarily clenching his hands until after he brought his arm up, and saw that the paper was crinkled, warping the face he had drawn upon it. He didn't like looking at this face, thinking about it, hell, even holding its likeness on the paper in his hand. Those cracks, those abysmally empty eyes, that unfathomable smile...it felt like an omen. And maybe it was. Papyrus had claimed that he felt like it was watching them; Sans was starting to feel that way, too. What did it want with them? What did it want with _Frisk_?

Sans crossed over to the blackboard, found a small magnet attached to the sill where chalk and erasers would sit. He eased it off, then used it to attach that face's likeness onto the board, directly on the line dividing the two columns. He paused and stared at it for a moment, then took a piece of chalk and traced out a big, fat '?' beneath it.

The sound of the chalk scratching against the blackboard's surface roused Alphys from her meditative state. She looked that way, and only briefly wondered why everything was so fuzzy before remembering her removed eye-wear. She retrieved the glasses and put them back on, afterwards finding her gaze resting on the two beings sitting on her sofa. One appeared to be deep in thought. The other...

"You, uh, y-you seem to be taking all this pretty well, Frisk," she commented, a shaky smile on her lips. "Despite, uh, d-despite everything, aheh heh..."

It was with good will that she made this remark. She hadn't planned on getting a reply of any kind out of it. But she got one nonetheless, as Papyrus returned from the kitchen and Sans finished filling in the dot on the question mark, and it was accompanied by the most nonchalant one-armed shrug she'd ever seen in her life:

"Guess I'm just used to being used."

The sound made by the piece of chalk in Sans' hand slipping and falling back onto the sill felt as loud as an explosion.

It was with heartbroken expressions that each monster in the room stiffly turned their gazes onto the human child. Their confession, spoken so blatantly casually, hung in the air like the stench of rotting flesh. They didn't even seem wary of it, not until they looked around, and took in everyone's faces. Their own dawned with realization, then swiftly warped with guilt before it turned away, and they shrunk into themself even further.

Such a shame-filled reaction only served to break everyone's hearts even further. " _kid_..."

"Oh, _Frisk_..."

"WHAT AN _AWFUL_ SENSATION TO GROW ACCUSTOMED T-"

"That's because you're such a _freakin' DOORMAT._ "

Bafflement swept in like a hurricane-force gale. It made Frisk look up, bewilderment replacing their shame. "Wh..?"

"You heard me!" Flowey continued, irk shaping his face and tainting his voice. "You're a grade-A goody-two shoes doormat! All you need is to be told an ugh-worthily fake sob story, and you'd let people walk _allll_ over you! You're too nice for your own good! I'd bet you'd let a mosquito suck you dry just because you didn't want to swat it!" A pause. "Oh good _god_ DON'T STOP TO CONSIDER THAT YOU IDIOT!

"My _point_ is that your kindness, your mercy, is what's gotten you into this entire situation! You're too caring! Too selfless! You'd just keep on giving and giving until there's nothing left of you to give! And it's _that_ kind of thinking that makes it easy for others to use you to their advantage! Your refusal to hurt anyone will only end up with you being the one that gets hurt!"

A certain darkness slipped into the flower's voice as he added, "Heh, bet that's what made it so easy for Chara to get to you! To convince you into doing what they wanted! Because you were too nice to fight back!"

A chill fell over the room.

"Well, guess what, _moron_? This is one problem that definitely _can't_ be resolved by being nice!" A small, thorn-less vine emerged from the soil in Flowey's pot and pointedly jabbed at Frisk's chest. "Get angry! Fight back! Show whoever's got the nerve to think they can bully you like this that _this_ -" Another jab. "-is _your_ body! _Your_ soul! _Your_ life! And that they have _no right_ to screw around with you like this!!"

There was a lengthy lull, in which others waited for more to be said. But it seemed as though Flowey was done. Brows furrowed, vine still pressed against Frisk's chest, Flowey stared at Frisk in expectancy, waited with what little patience he had for them to take his advice, to get his point, to react at all.

They did. And it was in the form of them wearily turning their head away, and just as wearily mumbling, "If only it were that easy..."

A growling groan came from the flower as he rolled his eyes, withdrew his vine, and slapped it across his face; his variation of face-palming. "Do you really need it spelled out for you!? You did it once already; you can easily do it again I'm sure! Just do whatever you had to do to get Chara to move on and everything will be hunky-dory again!!"

The chill in the room worsened. The one it most obviously affected most was Frisk, whose face warped into a profound grimace, and whose tremulous arms tightly wrapped around their torso.

"...that was a fairly decent, albeit odd, pep talk you gave there, bud." Though he was smiling, Sans was radiating outrage. "up until now, that is. and now, with that little spiel-" His grin widened, his outrage intensified. "- _you just crossed the line._ "

Accustomed to seeing Sans angry, Flowey's reaction was merely to look his way, and arch a brow in cluelessness. "...What?"

"I w-wondered how much you knew ab-bout the...'Chara situation'," Alphys commented, also seeming to radiate rage. "B-But it's clear y-you don't know _everything_..."

Alphys angry was a sight Flowey was less accustomed to seeing. He looked her way, his cluelessness increasing. "Okay seriously what's the deal? What'd they have to do to-?"

"IT MATTERS NOT WHAT THEY HAD TO DO," Papyrus interjected, his demeanor more stern that it was enraged. "ALL THAT MATTERS IS THAT IT IS _NOT_ AN OPTION WORTH CONSIDERING EVER AGAIN."

Papyrus' anger was the most unaccustomed-to sight by far. Flowey snapped his head around to each of their faces, looking for any clue to fill in what he was missing. His search was fruitless. Anger of his own crept into his features. "Will one of you BOZOS explain what the problem is?! Why are you all acting like this?! I don't...I don't understand!"

"You shouldn't have to."

Flowey turned to Frisk with a quickness that would've snapped his neck (if he had to worry about that). The others turned to Frisk, too, though they did so with considerably less quickness.

"You shouldn't have to understand," Frisk softly repeated, their gaze resting on their wounded hand. "No one should. No one should ever have to understand what it's like...to have your soul so completely overtaken and manipulated. To not remember all the awful things you've done while under another's influence until _after_ they were no longer inside you. To be so _powerless_ to... To have to take th-the most extreme measures to... To feel like you're a constant threat to those you... T-To be so... _unable_ to trust yourself anymore..."

The way their voice broke on the last note felt like a knife to the heart. It also repulsed any and all traces of anger from every gathered soul in the room. _frisk..._

Flowey's anger was also repulsed. Though while others experienced heartache as a replacement, his expression boasted a pursed frown full of suspicion. "...And yet you're here. If you're so 'unable' to trust yourself, then why are you purposefully 'endangering' your friends by seeking their help? By being anywhere near them for that matter?"

Though some thoughtful consideration was put behind it, Frisk's answer was almost immediate. Their fingers closing around their bandaged palm, they turned their head toward Sans, Alphys, and Papyrus, a stone-hard expression of resolve on their sickly pale face. "Because...it's precisely because I can't trust myself that I have to... _need_ to trust them."

A feeling welled within the three monsters at this. A feeling that, while somewhat familiar, was quite foreign. Foreign, yet not unwelcome. It was an interesting sensation, one that made their very souls quiver with a rush of energy, of motivation, of resolve.

They were filled with determination.

"AND YOU ARE VERY WISE TO PUT YOUR TRUST IN US, FRISK!" His usual enthusiasm returned, Papyrus strode over to Frisk, laid one palm across their head, and pounded the other against his chest plate in a show of heroics. "I GAVE YOU MY WORD! AND THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS NEVER ONE TO GO BACK ON HIS WORD! NYEH HEH HEH HEH!!"

"we'll get to the bottom of this, kiddo." Feeling a pair of crayon eyes on the back of his skull, Sans looked Frisk dead in the eye and said, with unusual resolve, "i promise."

A small, assured smile ghosted across Frisk's face.

The wheels of her chair squeaked as Alphys rose from it, her previous exhaustion forgotten. "Okay. Let's do this."

After muttering these words of motivation to herself, she turned to Sans, and they met gazes. "D-Do you remember when we were going to try to, er, 'd-do the thing'?" she asked. "A-And the device I had? I'm g-gonna need that back. Where'd you leave it?"

"back in your lab," Sans said as he crossed over to the monitor monolith, finding one labeled 'fire_lab1'. He tapped the screen, the image of the device Alphys mentioned beneath his fingertip. "it's right there."

"I CAN GO RETRIEVE IT FOR YOU, IF YOU'D LIKE, DR. ALPHYS!" Papyrus proposed.

Alphys nodded. "Okay, y-you do that. But, please, be v-very careful with it, alright?"

"ABSOLUTELY! I WILL PRACTICE UTMOST CARE WHEN HANDLING YOUR DEVICE! WHILE AT THE SAME TIME SWIFTLY RETURNING HERE WITH IT! NYEH HEH HEH!"

"i can take you as far as the underground's entrance." Sans motioned with a jerk of his head for Papyrus to follow. "c'mon."

Papyrus and Sans left, but not without giving Frisk a reassuring thumbs-up and a wink, respectfully.

"I'll start trying to translate those blueprints while they're doing that," Alphys said to herself. She grabbed them from where they laid beside her computer, then looked to the sofa. "Flowey, y-you're on monitor duty."

"Aye aye, _captain_ ," Flowey scoffed, but begrudgingly turned his attentions monitor-ward.

Alphys herself was about to head off when she caught sight of the other person on her sofa. She remembered something. "Frisk..."

The child turned their head to her as she walked up to them, placed her hands on theirs, and met their gaze. "I-I was going to explain this to you before, when were g-going to, ahem, ‘do the thing’. But we d-didn't back then, so..." She inhaled deeply, calming her nerves as best she could before explaining, "The device Sans and Papyrus are getting is a bigger, more powerful version of the one I use during your 'check-ups'; you remember me telling you this much, right?"

Frisk nodded. It was a slow, seemingly laborious action.

"Okay, here's wh-what I'm getting at. Your soul is the very culmination of your being. It is your very self. It is, in a sense, _you_. The device I use during your 'check-ups' worked as it did, b-because I had a good idea of what to look for. But now...s-since I'm not sure what I should be looking for, o-or even _where_ I should be looking..."

She could feel her claws trembling over Frisk's hand. She looked down at the shaking extremities, unable to look the child in the eye anymore. "I m-may...unearth some things in my search for whatever we're l-looking for. Some...unpleasant things. I-It's a c-complete and intimate invasion of privacy-"

"Do it."

If she hadn't been standing in such close proximity to them, she wouldn't've caught the words. Surprise lined her expression as she looked back up. "A-Are you sure?"

The hand that wasn't beneath Alphys' claws was placed over Frisk's chest. Their fingertips clutched tightly at the fabric covering it. "If someone, or something, _is_ in here, they're already intimately invading my privacy. What's it to me if someone else joins the party?"

The way they said that made a pang of solemnity strike Alphys' heart. "Frisk..."

Frisk met her eyes once more, in them a look of pleading. "Search my soul. Find what's there. Stop it before it makes me..." Their lip briefly quivered. "I don't want anyone to get hurt because of me again. For everyone's sake, please, Aunt Alph _ys_ -"

As they were talking, Frisk's voice increasingly became more hoarse and harder to understand. As they said her name, the word broke apart in their mouth, and came out as a sound a toad sick with a sore throat would make. They tried to speak again, but another breathless croak came out instead. The hand on their chest moved to their throat, a look of horror crossing their features. They moved to stand.

"O-Oh, no no no no no! D-Don't get up!" Alphys gently urged, her hands moving to their shoulders to keep them seated. "A-And don't try to speak, either! H-Hold on one second."

After making sure they were going to stay put, Alphys hurried to her computer desk, out of which she fished from a drawer a pen and a notebook. She opened the notebook and flipped through the pages on the return trip, stopping on when they remained blank and free of her notes. "Here." She presented both book and pen to the human. "U-Use this."

Frisk stared at the offered items for a second before accepting them, fumbling with the pen a bit before finding a good grip on it. Laying the notebook on their lap, they spent far less time than Alphys assumed they would writing down what they had to say before turning the book back her way.

On the lined paper were only four words, written in such a way they seemed to exude their writer's determination:

_Do whatever it takes_

The gravity of her task was daunting, but knowing how heavily her 'patient' needed her, how greatly they trusted her, she knew she could do it. "Y-You can count on me, Frisk."

She moved to return to her blueprint-translating task, remembered something else, then encircled her arms around Frisk's small frame. "By the way," she whispered, hugging them as tightly as she could without bringing them any further discomfort. "Mettaton sends his love."

She felt warmth starting to radiate from them as they rested the side of their head against her shoulder. She kept the hug a moment longer before releasing it, gingerly easing Frisk's head off her shoulder then against the back of the couch. They looked absolutely miserable, but she was sure they were already aware that, so she didn't point it out before leaving to find old blueprints, from which she could cross-reference with the ones tucked up beneath her arm.

Neither did she point out the darkened spots she saw on the fabric of Papyrus' cape near Frisk's mouth.

She was sure they were already aware of those, too.


	13. Chapter 13

_A strange light fills the room._

_"Human..."_

_Twilight is shining through the barrier._

_"It was nice to meet you."_

_It seems your journey is finally over._

_"Goodbye."_

_You're filled with DETERMINAT-_

_"Oof!"_

_-wait what?_

_Your eyes snap open in time to witness Asgore being knocked off kilter, thrown to your left by some force that must've dissipated upon impact, leaving behind a few smoldering embers that dance in your field of vision where Asgore stood previously._

_You...You recognize those embers. Recognize the warmth they emit, the energy they've been born of, energy you've come to recognize as magic. Magic uncannily similar to Asgore's, yet characteristically different on some deeply based level. Magic...that came from..._

_"What a miserable creature, torturing such a poor, innocent, youth..."_

_Her._

_She comes into your view from your right, carrying herself with grace and dignity befitting of a well-experienced monarch. Your whole head follows her as she walks in front of you, stopping precisely where Asgore stood just seconds before. She doesn't look your way, but keeps her sights upon the one she had blown away, the smallest traces of well-hidden contempt in her gaze._

_You stare blankly ahead. Thought begins to fail you. Your mind feels like it's running slower. Can it...can it really be...?_

_There's a certain term you've used to address her. You've only used it once. It had been in this time, back in the Ruins, after she gave you the cell phone and asked you to wait for her to return. Just as in previous times, she never did. Still, you had waited, and talked idly with her on the gifted phone to pass the time until she never returned. That was when that term slipped out. It had been an accident, one you intended on not repeating. But now, in your current state of utter shock, that intention becomes forgotten as you breathlessly utter that term again:_

_"M..._ Mom _...?"_

_Her entire demeanor shifts, relaxes, brightens at that single word. She looks down at you, and smiles kindly._

_"Do not be afraid, my child. It is I, Toriel, your friend and guardian._

_"At first," she begins explaining, "I thought I would let you make your journey alone... But I could not stop worrying about you."_

_She looks off to the side, unable to meet your gaze out of what you can only assume to be guilt. "Your adventure must have been so treacherous...and ultimately, it would burden you with a horrible choice. To leave this place, you would have to take the life of another person. You would have to defeat Asgore._

_"However..." Her demeanor brightens again. "I realized I cannot allow that. It is not right to sacrifice someone simply to let someone leave here. Is that not what I have been trying to prevent this whole time? So, for now, let us suspend this battle. As terrible as Asgore is...he deserves mercy, too."_

_The swish of her purple, delta rune-emblazoned tunic. The snowy whiteness of her fur. The copper red of her eyes. That lingering scent of butterscotch and cinnamon. It looks like her. It sounds like her. It even_ smells _like her._

_But...can it really be her? Is she really here? Is she really trying to stop the fight? The one experience has all but ingrained upon you that was always inevitable, always unwinnable for both participating parties, always robbing the Underground of their king and, ultimately, their hope? Can you really reach out now, be able to touch her? To feel her? To know that she's...she's really...here..?_

_"Tori...you came back...!"_

_Like a switch being flipped, the parental kindness about Toriel becomes firm sternness as she rises back to her feet (when did she start kneeling in front of you?), and steps between the freshly recovered Asgore and you, no doubt acting as shield to protect you from him._

_"Do not 'Tori' me, Dreemurr!" she reprimands, voice level yet sharp as a whiplash's sting as she places distance between yourself and Asgore by firmly walking toward him, making him back away with every step she took. "You pathetic whelp. If you really wanted to free our kind, you could have gone through the barrier after you got one soul, taken six souls from the humans, then come back and freed everyone peacefully. But instead, you made everyone live in despair... Because you would rather wait here, meekly hoping another human never comes."_

_With every reprimand, Asgore looked as though he was gradually shrinking. Not only that, but also more melancholic and regretful. "...Tori... You're right..." he eventually admits. "I am a miserable creature..."_

_A hopeful smile appears on his face. "...But, do you think we can at least be friends again?"_

_You hear Toriel sigh. "NO, Asgore."_

_Asgore looks heartbroken, yet amiable, accepting. He remains where he is. You remain lost in shock. Is...is he not going to fight you anymore? Are you really not going to have to go through that awful process again? Will he..._ finally _...get to stay alive?_

_"Ngahhhhhh!!!"_

_With this war cry, Undyne leaps in front of you and holds her arm out in a protective gest-wait,_ Undyne _??_

_"Asgore! Human!!" she bellows. "Nobody fight each other!!! Everyone's gonna make friends, or else I'll...!! I'll..."_

_Undyne finally takes notice of the second boss monster in the room. The intensity in her demeanor lessens._

_"Hello," greets the second boss monster, who turns calmly to smile at the fish monster standing in front of you. "I am Toriel. Are you the human's friend? It is nice to meet you."_

_Undyne's intensity lessens even more. "Uh, yeah...?" She lowers her arm, a wide grin taking up most of her face. "Nice to meet you!"_

_After side-stepping somewhat awkwardly around Toriel, Undyne crosses over to the king and remarks, "Hey, Asgore, is that your ex?"_

_Asgore pulls a face. Undyne responds accordingly. "Jeez. That's rough, buddy."_

_She sympathetically reaches up and pats his shoulder. You feel like reality's slipping away from you. She...she's here, too? The fierce captain of the royal guard, whom you've gone through the most leaps and hoops to convince her to give up her desire to kill you...is actively trying to make sure neither you nor Asgore fights??_

_"H-Hey!"_

_Yellow and white take up most of your line of sight as Alphys scurries out in front of y-wait_ Alphys _???_

_"Nobody hurt each other!!" her squeaky voice demands, confidence about her as she keeps herself between the two warring parties. As she takes notice of the other persons in the area, however, her foundation of confidence starts to sway._

_"Oh! Are you another friend?" Toriel's smile brightens as she directs her attentions to Alphys. "I am Toriel. Hello!"_

_"Uh, h-h-hi!" Alphys replies, her voice rising an octave out of nervousness. As beads of sweat coat her scales, she looks back to you and loudly whispers, "THERE'S TWO OF THEM???"_

_You answer her with a set of heavy blinks. You feel your jaw drop slightly in agog. She...She's here, too?_

_"HEY! NOBODY FIGHT ANYONE!"_

_Air swiftly rushes by you, and just as swiftly leaves your lungs, as Papyrus lifts y-_ Papyrus _????_

_"IF ANYONE FIGHTS ANYONE...!" the tall skeleton proclaims as he keeps you aloft, either as some form of either holding you back or keeping you out of harm's way. "THEN I'LL!!! BE FORCED!!! TO ASK UNDYNE FOR HELP!!!"_

_"Hello!" Toriel greets after the threat is issued, alerting Papyrus to her presence._

_"OH! HELLO, YOUR MAJESTY!" Papyrus immediately greets back. Then he leans his skull in close to your face and whispers in a voice you know everyone can hear, "PSST! HEY, HUMAN... DID ASGORE SHAVE...? AND....CLONE HIMSELF????"_

_You feel your jaw drop further. H...He's here, t-_

_"hey guys...what's up?"_

_You do a double-no; make that a triple-take at the newest addition to the growing 'make-sure-no-one-fights' party sauntering in from the left. S..._ Sans _?????_

_"That voice...!!"_

_With this quiet revelation, Toriel crosses back over to where you were standing before, eyes only for the newly arrived skeleton. "Hello," she greets as the others look on in varying degrees of surprise. "I think we may...know each other?"_

_"oh, hey..." Sans replies casually, though in your eyes, he looks surprised, too. "i recognize your voice, too."_

_"I am Toriel." She seems pleasantly surprised. "So nice to meet you."_

_"the name's sans." He gives her a wink. "and, uh, same."_

_They're...finally meeting..._

_"Oh! Wait, then...!" Toriel looks back at you and Papyrus, mainly at Papyrus, though. "This must be your brother, Papyrus! Greetings, Papyrus! It is so nice to finally meet you! Your brother has told me so much about you."_

_"WOWIE..." the tall skeleton gushes, and you spy pink shading his cheekbones. "I CAN'T BELIEVE ASGORE'S CLONE KNOWS WHO I AM!!! THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE!!!!!!!"_

_This...this isn't real..._

_"Hey, Papyrus... What does a skeleton tile his roof with?"_

_"HMM...SNOW-PROOF ROOF TILES???"_

_"No, silly! A skeleton tiles his roof with..._ shin _-gles!!!"_

_"I CHANGED MY MIND!!! THIS IS THE WORST DAY OF MY LIFE!!!"_

_This isn't happening..._

_"Come on, Asgore! It's gonna be OK! There are plenty of fish in the sea..."_

_"Y-Yeah, Asgore!! Undyne's totally right about that fish thing! S-Sometimes you've just got to, uh...s-stop going after furry boss monsters and, uh...j-just get to know a really cute fish...? ...It's a metaphor."_

_"Well. I think it's a good analogy."_

_This can't be happening..._

_"OH MY GOD! Will you two just SMOOCH already!? The audience is DYING for some romantic action!!!"_

_"HEY, SHUT UP!!! Man, the nerve of that guy! Right, Alphys!??_

_"...Uh, Alphys?"_

_"...No. He's right._

_"LET'S DO IT."_

_This is too good to be true..._

_"Well??? Uh??? I guess??? If you want to??? Then??? Don't hold anything back!!!"_

_This is way too good to be true..._

_"W-Wait! Not in front of the human!"_

_"Uhh, right! S-Sorry, I got a little carried away there."_

_"Hee hee hee."_

_This is all way too good to be happening..._

_Isn't it?_

_You don't realize you've been placed back on your feet until you blink, and find all six monsters that've gathered standing before you, looking at you, happily smiling at you. They're all here...and no one's fighting..._

_"My child," Toriel serenely tells you, "it seems as if you must stay here for a while. But looking at all the great friends you have made, I think...I think you will be happy here."_

_Friends..._

_Happy..._

_They're...your friends..._

_They're...happy..._

_No one's fighting..._

_You don't have to fight anymore..._

_You don't have to kill anymore..._

_This is all too good to be true, but true it remains._

_You have friends. You can stay with them. You can be..._

_Happy._

_Air leaves you breathlessly. You feel your eyes sting. You feel your mouth start to form a smile. You were right. You really can change th-_

_"H-Hey, that reminds me. Papyrus, you called everyone here, right? Well, besides, uh, her. Uh, anyway, if I got here before you, how did you know how to call everybody?"_

_"LET'S JUST SAY..._

_"A TINY FLOWER HELPED ME."_

_Like a sledgehammer to stained glass, so shatters your ephemeral - in hindsight, foolishly conceived - joy._

_How could you forget? He was always a constant. He's always been here. For every moment before, without fail, he's been here. And if he's the one that arranged this gathering..._

_...Oh_ no.

_"A   t i n y...f l o w-?"_

_"_ Run. _"_

_Everyone's joyful expressions slip slightly. Toriel's especially. "My child..?"_

_Ice pulsing through your veins, profound horror creasing your features, you desperately warn them, "Get out of here IT'S A TRA-"_

THWACK

_Your legs give out beneath you. The world around you disappears into whiteness. You're falling. You can just make out the terror crossing each of their faces before they, too, disappear into the whiteness. Then, everything goes black, silent, empty._

 

\----

"so i guess that means we can safely assume that the 'save points' were tied in directly with the barrier."

"And when the barrier came down, th-the 'save points' vanished. The tears in spacetime started being corrected."

"but that didn't happen all at once. frisk says they still saw 'em after the barrier came down."

"S-So, they must've been corrected as time continued that the barrier stayed down, that the resets stopped. It m-must've been a gradual process. L-Like water settling after constantly being churned up."

"heh. what happens when you swirl your straw around in a glass of lemonade really fast, right?"

"Oh. Aheh heh, r-right."

"yeah. now the barrier's down, the lemonade's still, but we still think spacetime hasn't fully settled yet. that the core's got somethin' to do with it now."

"The Core being p-powerful enough to alter the fabric of spacetime... Aheh, working there as long as I did, y-you'd think I'd remember if it had the capacity to do something on that level, huh?"

"eh, not necessarily. you didn't build it after all, right?"

"N-No, I didn't build it. It was built...by........."

"...alph?"

"...That's......so strange... I c-can't seem to remember...who created the C-"

"Hello? Is anyone in here?"

Hours had passed before Toriel arrived at Alphys' lab at the behest of Sans' message. The sun had already sunk below the horizon, the last remnants of oranges and yellows bleeding out of the twilit sky. Also at the behest of Sans' message, when she arrived, rounded a corner and emerged into the room, she carried with her a bag containing a first aid kit, medicines, blankets, and a change of clothes; a sick-day pack.

"Dr. Alphys? Sans?" Her eyes worriedly searched the area as she rounded the corner and entered the room. "Papyrus? Where are you? And where is my-Frisk!"

Every ounce of her attention was seized and stayed upon her child the moment she spotted them. She rushed to them, nearly discarding her baggage in her haste to reach them. She let it fall to the floor once she herself was kneeling on it, in front of the couch on which her child's head of brown hair peaked out of the bundle of fabric swaddling the rest of their small, thin body.

"Frisk," she breathlessly murmured, one paw cupping around the side of their face. "Oh, Frisk..."

Their movements were languid as she gingerly turned their head to face hers. The expression on their face suggested that they were somewhere between awake and asleep, that they had already been starting to nod off.

However, once Toriel's presence was alerted to them, any sleepiness about them was forgotten.

Their eyes lit up. Their back straightened a little. A hand extended toward her. "M...Mom..."

It was then that Toriel pulled Frisk close in a warm, firm hug. "I am sorry I did not come sooner," she quietly told them. "My phone had run out of battery power while I was working, and I did not hear Sans' message until long after he had sent it. Did you miss me? I certainly missed y-"

A horrid coughing fit interrupted her. She felt Frisk's body shudder in her arms with every cough. She became very stiff, and realized that in her rush to be reunited with her child, she had completely overlooked her child's current state of being.

Their hair, pulled back into a loose ponytail, had an unctuous feel to it, not to mention the strands also felt thin and brittle. Their breaths were shallow and raspy when they weren't coughing. Also when they weren't coughing, their body continued shuddering tremulously. Their skin was a sallow, almost anemic hue of white and red, beneath which several tendons and blood vessels conspicuously stood out. Dark circles beneath weary, bloodshot eyes proved a heavy contrast against the ashen pallet of the rest of their skin. Her hands had always been able to meet whenever she hugged the child previously, but now she realized that it felt more like she was hugging herself more than she was hugging someone else. She also realized that they hadn't so much as said 'Mom' than their lips mouthed the word and a hybrid of a toad's croak and a parrot's squawk failed to voice it.

"...My child..." Gently, so very very gently, Toriel pulled Frisk away and held them out at arm's length, lines of worry creasing her expression. "What has happened to you...?"

They appeared to struggle to keep her gaze, as well as struggle to keep themself upright. "Mom..."

She held back a grimace. After inhaling deeply to retain her composure, outward and inward, she urged, "Tell me what ails you, Frisk."

Frisk spent another struggling moment studiously staring up at her before turning their attentions to the notebook and pen in their lap. With unsteady hands, they turned to a blank page and began listing their symptoms:

_-throat feels weird_  
_-dizzy when I stand or walk_  
_-Aunt Alphys says my temperature's ~~fluk~~ ~~flucul~~_

"'Fluctuating'?" Toriel guessed.

Frisk nodded, then seemed to hesitate before adding ' _-threw up earlier_ ' to the list.

Their writing became uneven and ill-paced with every symptom added; they were exhausted. And they knew that much was apparent, hence there wasn't a need for them to add it to the list. "That will do for now, Frisk. You should lay down and try to get some sleep-"

Toriel had been easing them into a lying position as she said this. Halfway down was when a sharp gasp, followed by a moan and furious head-shake from Frisk made her immediately return them to their previous position. "Does...Does it cause more discomfort to lay down than to sit up?"

Frisk nodded heavily, their breaths shuddering unevenly.

Heartache gripped her. She soothingly stroked their head as their breathing slowed down, eased. "Is there anything else?"

Frisk kept their eyes down, nibbled lightly on their chapped lower lip. They looked nervous.

"Frisk, the more you tell me, the better I will be able to diagnose you, the more thoroughly I can help you," Toriel explained patiently. "I want to help you feel better. You will let me know if there is anything else, won't you?"

They peeked back up at her through their thick eyelashes. Then they looked down at their lap, at the objects laying on it. They fiddled with the pen. They appeared to be considering something.

With swift, stiff movements, they raised the pen, aimed, and jabbed its pointed tip straight into the center of their palm.

" _Frisk_!"

The pen was immediately pulled back out and confiscated by Toriel before any more self-harm could be wrought. Toriel's gaping expression was equal parts cross and horrified. "My child what has gotten into you?! Why would you-?!"

"...sn't hurt."

"What?"

They acted as though they didn't hear her. That they had completely forgotten her presence, actually. The entirety of their attention found interest in nothing but their hands, which lay palms up side by side on their lap, one bandaged and one freshly wounded. The look on their sunken face could be described as intuitive, curious.

...Fascinated.

"It doesn't...hurt," they repeated in that same soft, hoarse croak from before. "That didn't hurt...either. But trying to lay down..."

Their fingers slightly clenched. A ghost of a smile briefly crossed their face, while at the same time a ghost of a chuckle breathlessly left it. "Weird...huh?"

The confiscated pen slipped out of Toriel's hand, fell onto the notebook with a noiseless _thud_ that sounded like a gunshot. Its tip was completely stainless.

The former queen felt as though an entire bucket-full of ice cubes had been dumped down the back of her shirt. 'Weird' was definitely not the term she would apply to the situation. 'Morbid' or 'ominous' would be more fitting. 'Macabre' even. And the tone the child struck as they made these dark observations left little to be desired as well. "F-Frisk..."

The last time she saw them had been yesterday morning, when she dropped them off for their last day of school. Nothing about them then had suggested that they were feeling unwell. Comparing how they were back then to how they were now...it was truly frightening to see how swiftly Frisk fell to illness of this caliber. Could they have been faking their wellness yesterday morning? Given past experience, she certainly wouldn't put it past the child to fool her and others this way. And if they _had_ been doing such, for how long had they been faking? How could her child have fallen so sick so quickly?

Almost...like...

She stopped that train of thought before it could even begin pulling out of the station. Now was not the time for that. Now was the time for comforting. For recovery. For healing.

She laid one of her big, fluffy paws across Frisk's hands, and realized how icy cold they felt against her palm. "I know you are supposed to be weaned off of this, but..." The other hand was laid across Frisk's forehead, from which sickly heat radiated. "It seems as though the medicines I have brought will not suffice to your needs. This is the only form of treatment I can give you now."

By some small stroke of merciful benevolence, when she ceased flowing healing energy out from her palms and into her child, Frisk appeared to be at least a little less sickly, less miserable, a little more lively than before she began the healing process. They even whined a little after it stopped, and kept leaning their forehead more deeply into her palm as she tried to pull it away. More, Mom. Let me have more...

She stifled a chuckle. Such a childish, needy response. But she could not oblige to their yearning. She had given enough already. They needed proper, more practical treatment now. More than what the medicines she brought or the healing magic she had could provide. "I should take you to see a doctor."

Frisk suddenly stopped yearning for their mother's magic, and even their mother's touch. After a second of stillness, they pulled themself away, stared up at her in grave seriousness, and shook their head.

Such a reaction stunned Toriel, if only for a moment. "Unless I am mistaken, Dr. Alphys is not well-educated in human pediatrics," she firmly claimed. "If you are to get better, you should be taken to a professional who is-"

She reached out to take them up into her arms. They recoiled from the gesture as if it was a threat of violence. They shook their head even harder. "Not...yet..."

The only comfort Toriel could take at present was that their voice, while still bearing likeness to a toad with a frog stuck in its throat, did not sound as horribly haggard as before. The rest of her was taken by disappointment, confusion. Why were they so against receiving proper care and treatment? "Frisk, do not fight me on this. I am going to take you to a doctor immediatel-"

" _Wow._ Are you really so desperate to rob them of what little free will they feel they have left?"

Toriel didn't recognize the voice at first. Not until she turned her head to where it originated.

The potted flower seated there stared up at her with vastly empty black eyes, and chuckled darkly through wickedly grinning teeth. "Hee hee. Never woulda thought someone like _you_ could be so heartlessly cruel to her own 'child'. Hee hee hee hee."

Her eyes went wide with horror. Now she remembered when she had last heard that voice, seen its owner. Before the barrier was destroyed. She had returned to the castle to stop Asgore and Frisk from fighting each other. So had the rest of the friends they had made. Frisk had looked so happy, so overjoyed...possibly even _relieved_.

Then a tiny flower was mentioned. Frisk had become overtaken by unspeakable terror. A desperate cry urged her and everyone else to run, warned them of a trap. A flash of gold and green struck Frisk from behind. Their breath seized. Their eyes rolled back. They collapsed limply and gracelessly to the floor. She had only a split moment of awareness to this before...before...

Though she could not remember much of what happened after that, of one thing she was certain: Someone had deliberately attacked her child when they were in a state of total defenselessness. Someone she could well draw the conclusion who had laid the trap Frisk tried to warn everyone of in futility.

And that same someone was now plainly sitting a distance far too close to her child - who was in an even more defenseless state now - than she would ever deem safe.

Her fur instinctively bristled. Instinct also caused her to hold out her arm in attempt to push Frisk behind her, to hide them, to protect them. "What are you doing here?" she demanded in a low, tense voice.

Her attempts at intimidation fell flat. "Hah, _there's_ the million dollar question on everyone's mind," Flowey sarcastically remarked, then added, "Well, too bad for you, but we already answered that! Come back and try again never!"

Toriel felt her fur bristle more. In her palm a concentrated heat began accumulating. "You-"

"YOUR MAJESTY! FINALLY YOU HAVE ARRIVED!!"

The loud, peppy voice gave her a start, made her fur smooth over and the heat dissipate. Daring to take her eyes off the dangerously close flower, she looked up to find a tall, familiar skeleton across the way and approaching her, grinning broadly through the bundles of rolled-up papers he carried in his arms.

"NYEH, NOT THAT I DOUBTED YOU WOULD ARRIVE EVENTUALLY," Papyrus claimed. "BUT, I MUST SAY, EACH PASSING HOUR OF YOUR NOT BEING HERE WAS QUITE WORRISOME FOR US! WHY, I WOULD HAVE LEFT YOU SEVERAL MORE MESSAGES MYSELF, BUT THINGS HERE HAVE BEEN VERY HECTIC, TO SAY THE..."

It was only when Papyrus was standing within a two-foot radius of where Toriel knelt that he finally sensed the charged tension between her and Flowey. His sockets went wide with realization. "OH! NO NO NO YOUR MAJES-TORIEL! THERE IS NO NEED FOR HOSTILITIES!" After some adjusting, Papyrus held his burden in one arm so he could reach the other down to pat Flowey's topmost petals. "FLOWEY HERE IS PERFECTLY INNOCUOUS! QUITE HELPFUL, AS WELL! ISN'T THAT RIGHT, FLOWEY?"

"Don't touch me," Flowey growled.

"ALRIGHT!" Papyrus complied.

Toriel was left gaping at the exchange. The shift of Flowey's demeanor from dark and threatening to annoyed and snappy had happened with drop-of-a-hat swiftness, the friendly casualness of Papyrus' behavior towards Flowey; the surreal nature of it all was quite jarring. "Wh...?"

She subconsciously decided that now was the time she could afford to divide her attention, and she actually began to notice her surroundings. She noticed the gargantuan structure comprised of countless monitors erected behind the couch upon which Frisk and Flowey sat. She noticed the all-too familiar locations displayed on these monitors. She noticed the modestly bulky machine stationed directly beside the couch. She noticed the screen, buttons, knobs, and wires upon it. She noticed that those wires were trailing from beneath the screen, along the cushions, and up beneath Frisk's shirt. She noticed several papers and blueprints scattered across the floor nearby. She noticed a blackboard filled to the brim with notes.

In front of this blackboard, sitting among the blueprints and papers, she finally took notice of the two monsters that've, judging by the way they were staring, had been watching everything ever since she arrived.

"heya tori," Sans greeted casually, and just as casually gave her a wink and wave combo. "glad you could finally make it."

"U-Uh, h-h-hi there, Y-Your Ma-uh, T-Toriel." Alphys' greeting was far less casual than Sans'. After it was issued, she immediately turned on the skeleton with a flustered expression and loudly whispered, "You didn't tell me _she_ was gonna be here!"

"i didn't?" Sans briefly pondered this before realizing her words were true. "i didn't. whoops. hey, alph, head's up. tori's gonna be comin' by later."

Alphys groaned wearily and smacked her palm against forehead.

"...Sans."

It took a great amount of self-restraint for Toriel to keep her voice calm and level when she addressed the skeleton. Practicing that same amount of restraint, she rose to her feet, turned to fully face him, and crossed her arms over her chest. "I believe you said you would 'share the details' about what is 'up' with Frisk upon my arrival. I am ready to be enlightened."

The regal magnitude of her voice sent chills down Sans' spine. "yup, i sure did say that." He also rose to his feet, feeling a little warm under the collar under her stern gaze. "don't you worry, though. i still have every intention on sharing the details. it's just..." He looked down at his feet, one hand reaching up to rub the back of his skull. "...whew. sure is a whole lot more to share now."

Toriel visibly relaxed, but only a little bit. A brow of suspicion and confusion rose up her forehead. "What could you possibly mean by-"

_BANG_ "AAAAAALLPHYYYYYYYYYYYYYSSSS!!"

Everyone jumped in surprise at the noises. Alphys especially. Never before had she felt more ambivalent to hear her name being called, for she'd recognize the voice that yelled it anywhere. She looked to Sans in exasperation, whining softly.

"okay i had _nothing_ to do with that," was all Sans got to tell her before Undyne came barging in unannounced.

"Alphys! Babe! _There_ you are!!" Undyne scattered several papers in her wake as she dashed over to where Alphys sat, and sent several in a flurry when she reached down and scooped up her wife into her arms. "It's only been a few weeks and all but, god, I really, really missed you!"

"I-mmfph!" Alphys' attempted reply was cut short as Undyne kissed her deeply. Alphys' eyes fluttered, and she melted into Undyne's embrace, returned the kiss. Turned out she had been missing her wife far more than she realized.

Flowey gagged quietly. Sans cleared his throat loudly. The kiss ended, and left both participants breathless. Alphys was turning red under her scales. "Wh...What're you doing here..?" she finally got to ask.

"I missed my wife and wanted to see her! That should be reason enough! And don't worry!" she proudly added. "I have a good excuse for my being here so neither of us get in trouble with that investor of yours! Fuhuhu!"

Alphys blinked repeatedly, both for recovery from the smooch and to jog her memory of the excuse she gave Undyne to explain her absence for the past few weeks. "O-Oh..."

Undyne grinned in a satisfied way and placed Alphys back down on her feet. "So I guess all of this is stuff for the project, huh?" she said with a nod to the scattered-about papers at their feet. "And all those monitors, too, I bet! Oof, musta taken a while getting all that set up! Oh hey, Toriel. Didn't see you there. And Papyrus, you're here, too? Man, Alph, how many people you got in on thiiiiwhoa whoa whoa _whoa WHOA!_ "

It was as if a switch had been flicked. The instant she saw and recognized the flower sitting between Toriel and Papyrus, Undyne adopted a battle stance, her expression became fiercely intense, and a shimmering aqua spear materialized into her outstretched hand. "What the hell is that _thing_ doing here!?"

"Ever the observant one, aren't you, _Captain_?" Flowey sneered, yet traces of an annoyed whine persisted in his voice.

"WHY MUST EVERYONE IMMEDIATELY TURN TO HOSTILITY UPON SEEING FLOWEY AGAIN?" Papyrus moaned to no one in particular. Then he stepped forward, conveniently placing his body directly in line with her line of fire as he did. "HELLO TO YOU, TOO, UNDYNE! PLEASE PUT AWAY THE SPEAR. THERE IS REALLY NO NEED FOR THAT HERE-"

"Like _hell_ there isn't! 'Cause if I'm remembering what I remember from the last time that flower showed up, he only shows up for one thing and that's-wait." Her expression intensifying, Undyne turned a half-crazed with horror and shock look onto Alphys. "Is _he_ the private investor!? Is he why you haven't been home!?"

Alphys muttered something incoherent and looked down at her feet.

" _That_ does it!" The magical spear in her hand lengthened as she stomped forward, murder in her eye. "Outta my way, Papyrus! I've got some weed-killing to do!"

"UNDYNE! PLEASE DON'T!" Though intimidated, Papyrus stood his ground. "FLOWEY IS OF NO THREAT TO US ANYMORE! TRUST ME!"

If only for a moment, Undyne hesitated. "I trust you just fine, Papyrus. It's _him_ I don't! Nevermind what happened last time; you'd think I'd let him off the hook so easily after hearing he's been keeping Alphys - _my_ Alphys - prisoner!? There's _no way_ I'm letting him get away with that!"

"Under what authority can you not let me get away with it, might I ask?" Flowey taunted through sharp, grinning teeth. "Considering the Royal Guard got so pointless it disbanded, if you kill me now, _you'd be nothing more than a cold-blooded killer satisfying a prejudiced vendetta._ "

Undyne's anger reached a fever pitch. Her upper lip curled back, exposing her many many sharp teeth. "Why _you_ -!"

"U-Undyne please stop it!!"

Undyne hesitated again, so much so that she stopped her advance completely. It wasn't just Alphys' plea, nor Papyrus' hand on her shoulder that made her stop. It was also the small, shaky hand that had reached out, grabbed Flowey's pot around the rim, and dragged him until he was partially hidden behind the arm that hand was at the end of that made her freeze, made her fury visibly lessen.

She followed the arm up to its owner's face, and grimaced. "Yeesh, Frisk, you look like hell," she commented lowly, her spear lowering slightly. "What happened?"

"That is precisely what I am wanting to know," said Toriel patiently, though it was obvious from the way her foot tapped against the floor that her patience was wearing thin. "I am still waiting for that explanation, Sans."

Sans felt even more hot under the collar than before. Sweat started beading along his brow. "y-yeah, uh-huh. you got it. one explanation comin' up-"

" _Nooo_ , let's wait a little while longer." Flowey's voice oozed with sarcasm as he shooed Frisk's arm away, grinned mockingly at the gathered persons around him. "Given my luck today, I'm positive at least _one_ more distraction's just around the corner!"

Not three seconds later, there was a light rapping sound followed by a deep, rumbling voice saying, "Dr. Alphys? Are you in tonight?"

"I _rest_ my case!!"

Another whine of frustration left Alphys as she dropped her face into her hands and Asgore's voice grew closer.

"I am sorry for bothering you so late, Doctor," he apologized, "but I'm afraid this cannot wait any longer. I've been come to with many complaints as of late from several of your lab's neighbors; complaints mainly about how your lab is sucking up so much electricity, it is causing problems in surrounding homes. A block-wide power outage is feared because of this. Ah, but you must have heard all of this from Undyne already. Seeing as how she, quite literally, ran off ahead of me on our way-oh."

Asgore was now fully into the room, and took in the sights it had to offer. His initial reaction upon seeing it all: pleasantly surprised. He looked over and smiled at Alphys. "Are you...having a party?"

"Sure, l-let's go with that," Alphys remarked in a voice only she heard, and sunk her face deeper into her palms.

"Yeah. That's it. A _party_ ," Flowey remarked in a voice everyone could hear, and grinned bitterly at the 'party's newest arrival. "But it's VIP only. And seeing as how you hung up your crown, guess that just doesn't make you a very important person anymore. So buzz off!"

Ex-king and flower locked gazes. The surprise on Asgore's face remained, though it was no longer of the pleasant variety. "...Oh."

"Asgore! Perfect timing!" Undyne still hadn't backed down. She was giving Papyrus a stern warning glare as she asked Asgore, "Wouldja mind being a pal and help me make everyone realize that it is, in fact, _not_ okay for this weed to be here!?"

Asgore kept Flowey's gaze a few seconds longer before, slowly, looking to Undyne, his expression somewhat clueless. "And...why is it not okay for him to be here?"

Undyne looked to Asgore in aghast disbelief. "Are you kidding me?! Did you forget what happened last time he showed up!? I know none of us remember a lot about it, but I know damn well that, the last time he showed up, he blindsided Frisk and knocked them out cold while they were trying to warn us about a trap!"

"I remember as much," said Asgore patiently. "However-"

"And if last time isn't enough for you, this time, he's been keeping Alphys a prisoner here for the past two weeks!!"

Asgore arched a brow. "Oh?"

"And _there's_ the assumption everyone immediately jumps to!" bitterly growled Flowey.

"U-Undyne, please, c-calm down! I-I-I swear, it's not like that!" desperately claimed Alphys.

"Well, if that is the case, perhaps you ought not be so quick to judge him guilty," thoughtfully mused Asgore.

Undyne growled/groaned in frustration. She knew the former king had big, kind, loving heart in that chest of his, but he just _can't_ be serious right now. "Throw me a bone here, Asgore. Shut up, Sans," she added prematurely under her breath. "Tell me why, exactly, I shouldn't strike this thing down where it stands?? ...Sits??"

Asgore firmly held her gaze for a few moments. Then he looked around at the other persons gathered, studying each of their faces, before looking back to Flowey. "The reason I believe you should reserve judgement for now, Undyne, is because... _that_ is the talking flower that warned me 'that' time."

Everyone's eyes widened in surprise. Even Flowey's. Everyone's widened eyes turned to him then, conflicted awe mixing in with their surprise. _He_ was the flower that warned Asgore during 'that' timeline?

"...Dammit, fine." With this begrudged growl, Undyne willed her spear away and took a step backwards. "Judgement reserved for now."

Alphys wheezed a heavy sigh of relief. Papyrus proudly grinned. "NYEH, GOOD JOB, UNDYNE-"

"But I'll be watching you, _weed_." After issuing this warning to a now indifferent-looking Flowey, Undyne looked back and forth to Alphys and Papyrus. "And I still expect an explanation for why he's here to begin with."

"Y-Yes! O-Of course! D-Don't worry, dear. Explanation incoming-"

"It. Can. Wait."

Toriel's voice rose over all others, silencing them instantly. It was even and cold, a stark contrast to the rigidness of her posture and the barely perceivable waves of heat emanating from her body. "What takes priority at the moment," she continued, "is you explaining to me every step of your thought process in deciding to take my sick child here instead of straight to the hospital, _Sans_."

Feeling hot or cold was difficult for a monster like Sans, considering his lack of skin. But he felt both of these sensations simultaneously when Toriel said his name. He gulped heavily. "t-tori, c'mon. c-calm down-"

"Wait," Asgore interjected. "Frisk is here, too?"

"Yes, Asgore," Toriel answered without looking his way. "Frisk is here, too."

"And, they are...sick?"

"...Yes, Asgore. They are sick."

From his standpoint, all Asgore could see of Frisk was part of their head from behind where Toriel stood. His gaze lingered there as he pondered his ex-wife's words. His face slowly fell as he did. He also seemed to get smaller.

Others took notice of this. "A-Asgore?"

"ARE YOU ALRIGHT, YOUR MAJESTY?"

Asgore did not say anything. Neither did he look anyone's way.

Toriel inhaled deeply, loudly enough to recall everyone's attention before continuing to berate a certain skeleton. "I simply cannot understand your borderline irresponsible actions leading to this, Sans."

Sans flinched at this, his expression slipping. "tori, c'mon...g-give me a little credit-"

"Was it that Dr. Alphys' lab was closest to your location when Frisk fell ill, and you hoped to take them someplace safe to rest? And that by summoning me here, I could cure them and bypass seeking out _real_ medical help??"

Sans shifted nervously and avoided looking directly at her. "i, uh, that might've crossed my mind at one p-"

"You have put far too much faith into my healing abilities and Frisk is the one that suffers for your oversight!" Everyone, Sans especially, flinched at the sudden rise and sharpness of her voice. "Cuts and bruises are one thing, but illnesses manifest in and affect humans and monsters differently! I cannot cure a sick human like I can a sick monster! I learned that long ago when...wh...when..."

The heat radiating from the former queen increased when she raised her voice, but fizzled out by the time she got to the last word. Also by the time she got to the last word, the volume and regal command in her voice receded, seemed to leave her completely. It left her subtly trembling where she stood, the corners of her mouth pulled back into a grimace, and a forlorn look in her cast-down-at-the-ground eyes.

"...tori?"

A shuddering sigh left her. She closed her eyes tightly and covered them with one hand. She did not say anything.

Sans took a hesitant step in her direction, worry creasing his would be brows. "tori, what...what is it? what's wrong?"

"...Oh, yeah...I remember now."

It was unusual to hear Undyne's voice sound so small and humble. Almost surreal. Her outward demeanor reflected the way her voice sounded. She looked between the two former royals, then reminded those who still didn't know what caused their despondent states, "The first human died...because they got super sick."

Realization fell like a thick layer of snow. Gazes were avoided, everyone seemed to distance themselves from each other, no one said anything.

And absolutely no one had the heart to mention the obvious; that the death of that first human was the crux that, in more ways than one, made everything go to hell.

"...Frisk does not seem to share all the symptoms Chara had," Toriel seemed to say more to herself than to the others, ending the thick, lengthy silence. She then uncovered her eyes, which appeared to be a little wet around the edges, and looked more to the group than to one short individual in it. "But their current symptoms are too concerning to be ignored. Especially since they claim to no longer have any feeling in their extremities and appear to be coughing up blood."

"what?" Now, Sans' smile left him completely. He, along with Alphys, Undyne, Papyrus, and even Flowey, turned to stare at the child in muted horror. " _blood_?"

Frisk messed with the fabric of the cape near their mouth, trying to be discreet about it. Several apologetic glances were cast by them as they did, mostly in Papyrus' general direction.

"THAT...THAT IS BAD, RIGHT?" Papyrus asked, looking to Sans as he did.

Sans looked at Papyrus and nodded. "yeah, bro. that's _real_ bad." He looked back to Frisk, something akin to disappointment in his expression. "kid you should've said something."

Frisk shook their head, then set about to write something down in their notebook. They held it up when they were done, showing everyone the large print message they had just written down, next to which an arrow pointed off to the side beyond where they sat.

_This is more important_

Sans read this message, sighed, and ran a hand down his face.

Toriel read this message, too. Her expression softened, and she knelt back down at Frisk's side. "My dear, no," she gently said as she, just as gently, stroked their hair. "Nothing could be more important to you now than your recovery from what ails you."

Frisk shook their head again, more firmly this time, and added underlines to their previous message, emphasizing its importance.

"Frisk," Asgore said gravely, "what could possibly be so important that you're denying yourself proper care?"

"Does it have to do with why _he's_ here?" Undyne suspected, throwing a glare in Flowey's direction.

Toriel studiously stared at Frisk's ashen face. Then she turned that studious stare onto Flowey, then in the direction the arrow beside Frisk's message seemed to be pointing toward; the monitor monolith.

"...Dr. Alphys." She looked over her shoulder, her studious stare hardening subtly. "I'll take that explanation now."

Alphys trembled like a leaf under that stare. "Y-Y-Y-Yes, Y-Your Majesty! W-Well, um, ahem, l-long story short, th-the reason Flowey's here is b-because there's something strange happening b-back in the Underground, a-and he sought out my help to figure out what that is."

"...That's it?" Undyne questioned when it seemed Alphys wasn't going to say any more. She turned her eye onto Frisk, her expression incredulous. " _That's_ why you're keeping yourself holed up here??"

Frisk said nothing, the resolve in their face unshaken even as their notebook lowered back onto their lap.

A joyless bark of a laugh burst from Undyne's mouth. "Kid, you gotta get your priorities in order."

"UNDYNE, THERE'S MORE TO IT THAN THAT," Papyrus tried to explain, but was cut off when Asgore stepped forward, sighing heavily.

"Frisk, please, humor us. It is flattering that you care so much about whatever is happening back at Mt. Ebott, but it can wait, I'm sure. You are unwell; staying here will only make your poor health worsen. Let Toriel take you to a proper doctor, so you can receive treatment we couldn't provide... The fate of the Underground should not be so important to you when you are like this-"

Asgore was cut off by a sound that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Not just his, but also Toriel's and Undyne's, and even though neither Papyrus, Sans, nor Alphys had hair, the sound made them experience this sensation, too. It was low, it was hollow, it was joyless, it was borderline manic.

It was laughter.

"Hee hee hee hee hee hee heeeeeee. Oh. My. _God._ You peabrains really don't get it, do you? 'Shouldn't be so important to you'; that is so _ridiculously_ hilarious. Hee hee hee heeee..."

It was with guarded uncertainty that the six monsters gathered turned their attentions onto the potted plant laughing it up. "...What're you so giddy about?" Undyne growled.

"WHAT ARE WE NOT 'GETTING'?" Papyrus added.

"Oh, you wanna know, do you?" Flowey turned his face just enough so that only one darkened eye and a sliver of his sardonic grin could be seen. "You _reeeeeally_ wanna know what you're all too stupid not to get?"

"WELL, YES. WHY ELSE WOULD WE ASK?"

Flowey darkly snickered again. "Hee hee hee, fine. But I'm only saying this once, so you _idiots_ better pay attention.

"There are only two things I 'care' about: myself, and what directly affects me. By that logic, I 'care' very deeply about the fate of the Underground. Also by that logic, you were right, Papyrus. When you said earlier that I 'care' about this idiot. Do you know why that is?"

He didn't even give them time to think it over. Turning his head so that every last inch of his sardonically grinning face could be seen by everyone, he answered his own rhetorical inquiry: " _It's because Frisk IS the fate of the Underground._ "

Those gathered flinched as though they'd been stabbed. "Wh...What do you...?"

Flowey's darkened eyes swiveled over to Toriel, and he scoffed. "Still don't get it yet? Ha! I was under the impression that this idiot already told you everything! Or maybe you're all just so dumb you completely forgot how much power they hold over your lives! Your futures! The whole freakin' world!"

The time it took for realization to dawn felt longer than it probably really was. The temperature in the room seemed to drop 20 degrees when it did. "Are you...talking about the resets?"

" _Someone_ get His ex-Majesty a prize! Of _course_ I'm talking about the resets!!"

Asgore, Toriel, and Undyne stiffened. "How. The hell. Do you know about those?" Undyne demanded.

"Never mind how I know about them," Flowey snapped. "Let's get back to the point. The point being, if they so choose, ol' Frisk here can _take away_ everything. Bye-bye surface. Bye-bye sunlight. Bye-bye happy marriage. Bye-bye memories. Bye-bye _everything_. And hel-lo Underground. Hel-lo darkness. Hel-lo barrier. Hel-lo living in despair again."

With ghoulish animosity, Flowey decisively turned his head to his side. "And hel-lo chances of setting a _knife-happy, genocidal maniac_ on the loose again."

Those gathered near the couch found themselves unwarily backing away from it. Even Toriel. They also found their minds racing with possibility, and their gazes resting squarely on the child Toriel had, until this point, had given every intention on not leaving their side.

"B-BUT, THAT...THAT IS IMPOSSIBLE." Papyrus' skull shook side to side in some act of defiance or denial. "F-FRISK COULD ONLY RESET BECAUSE OF 'THEIR' INFLUENCE, RIGHT? BUT 'THEY' NO LONGER HAVE ANY INFLUENCE OVER FRISK NOW! S-SO, ANOTHER RESET IS IMPOSSIBLE! COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY IMPOSSIBLE!!!"

Flowey snickered. "Hee hee, I was beginning to believe that, too. But then an interesting idea crossed my mind: you all haven't tried to make sure that's the case yet, have you? You haven't tried to test that out yet, have you? To see if we all really _are_ safe from another reset!"

Nervous glances were shared between the group. _Had_ that been tested out yet?

"Ooh! Another interesting idea just crossed my mind! We can check and see if we're safe from the resets right now! You still eager and ready to lend a helping hand, Papyrus?"

Papyrus' expression lit up instantly. "NYEH! ALWAYS!"

"Good! In that case-" A vine emerged from the soil in Flowey's pot. It extended towards Frisk.

It traced an 'X' over their chest, directly where their heart was.

Flowey's expression turned sadistically dark.

"- _you can take the first shot._ "

Papyrus' expression dropped instantly. "WH...WH- _WHAT_??"

"And, hey, if it doesn't work and you end up only killing them, you won't have to feel too bad!" His grin widened, his voice grew darker. " _At least you'd be putting them out of their misery either way!_ "

Several of the rolled-up papers slipped out of Papyrus' arm as he stumbled back, his jaw hanging open in speechless horror.

"You... _sick...freak_!!"

Papyrus had backed into Undyne, who caught him before he could collapse. The hostility in the glare she then gave Flowey could start fires. "What the actual hell is _wrong_ with you!?"

"How _dare_ you even suggest such an act!" Toriel practically screamed, once again trying to shield her child by throwing her arms around them and pulling them to her chest.

"You are...making it difficult for us to reserve our judgement of you, Flowey," Asgore commented sternly, looking as though he was strainfully willing himself not to look or sound angry. "What could possibly possess you to consider an act of this caliber?"

"B-Because it's the only way we'll ever know now if we really are safe from the resets."

The room's temperature felt like it had dropped another 20 degrees. Asgore, Undyne, Toriel, and Papyrus then realized how quiet both Alphys and Sans had been until now. They looked to the pair now, who were both guiltily staring down at their feet. It was now obvious to the others that the two of them had figured out everything Flowey just said long before he started his 'explanation'.

It was with wide eyes and gaunt faces that Asgore, Undyne, Toriel, and Papyrus looked to the child in Toriel's arms. She slowly removed those from around them, trembling as she did. They had been even more quiet than Sans and Alphys had been, and for longer. They hadn't even made the smallest adjustment from their seated position, at least not willingly; they didn't even flinch when Toriel pulled them to her chest, when she wrapped her arms around them, when Flowey did an X-marks-the-spot gesture over their heart.

Frisk didn't say anything, and there was no need to. Their eyes said it all.

This was something they realized and had come to accept a _long_ time ago.

"So you finally get it."

Everyone had gone far too numb at this point to react to Flowey speaking again, negatively or otherwise. And they remained numb as he continued, "You finally understand the god-like power Frisk here has over all of you. So now that you know, how about instead of continue wasting all our times with explanations we _already went over_ , you could - oh I don't know - _get back to trying to fix the problem_?! Nevermind the fact that the more time you waste, Frisk's condition potentially gets worse; if you all don't get on with it, they might just get annoyed and bored enough to save us all the trouble and-mmrph!"

The sound of Flowey's voice getting cut off sparked a reaction out of all six gathered monsters. They looked to find Frisk's finger pressed to the flower's mouth, successfully shushing him and getting his demonic expression to turn to blank surprise. They kept the finger there, their other hand busy furiously jotting something down in their notebook. And their finger stayed there until they were finished writing, and they used both hands to hold the book up to Flowey, so as to let him see whatever they just wrote out.

Curiosity caused the flower to take interest in whatever was written down. He bent down toward the page, studied it, then lifted his head to raise an incredulous eyebrow at the message's author. Frisk held their position; they didn't even blink. With a low, begrudged groan and eye roll, Flowey turned back to the page presented to him.

"'I know you're all worried about me'," he read aloud, "'and that my priorities look completely out of sorts, but I know what I'm doing. I have to stay here. If you give Sans, Papyrus, and' -ugh- ' _Aunt_ Alphys a chance to explain everything, you'll understand why I'm doing what I'm doing. Why I have to keep myself here. Also, if causing another reset would ever make it onto my list of things-I-want-to-happen, it'd be the very last entry on that list. Don't worry about that. And don't worry about me too much, either. I'll be fine.'"

For a second, Flowey thought that was the last of it. Then he noticed a much smaller entry beneath the one he just narrated. He leaned in close, and had to squint to make out the words. "...'Please don't fight anymore'."

If Frisk had written anymore for Flowey to say aloud, Flowey sure couldn't see it. He straightened his stem, and turned his face to wickedly grin at the small crowd gathered near him. "My my. How very lucky for us all, to have such a merciful, magnanimous _god_ holding our very lives in the palm of their hand."

The six gathered monsters found themselves equally gripped with silent awe as they stared at Frisk. Frisk's words, in Flowey's voice, had sent them all into this awestruck state, as did the flower's most recent comment. That Frisk held a great, terrible power over each of their collective fates. That Frisk was exercising great restraint and responsibility over that power.

That Frisk carried far, far more than just the weight of Mt. Ebott on their small, small shoulders.

"...I'll go get some extra chairs," Alphys said sullenly before shuffling off. "You're all g-going to want them after hearing everything."

"you deserve to know what's going on." Sans walked over and, hesitantly, touched Toriel's shoulder. "and we're gonna let you know. let's give the kid a little breathing room while we do that, okay?"

Toriel heard what Sans was saying, but made no effort to comply. She did not want to leave her child's side; not when they were this weak and sickly. But nothing about them now gave the impression that the feeling was mutual. They did not seem to protest the thought of her leaving their side. They seemed comfortable, in spite of their poor condition, with Flowey's presence. They seemed fiercely determined to stay put. They wouldn't even look her way anymore.

Not even when she rose to her feet, turned, and walked away without a word. She left without even casting a warning glance at Flowey.

She passed by Asgore as she crossed over to the area Alphys had begun setting up the retrieved extra chairs. Asgore opened his mouth to say something as she passed, raised his hand slightly to reach out to her. No words came, his hand barely left his side. He closed his mouth, dropped the hand, and dutifully followed after her.

After making sure Papyrus was alright to stand on his own, Undyne threw a seething warning glare at Flowey that made up for the one Toriel didn't give, and then some. "You touch even _one hair_ on their head and I'll _rip out_ every last one of your petals."

Flowey scoffed indifferently. Undyne stomped her way over to where the others were regathering. Only Sans and Papyrus were left, the latter bending down to retrieve the previously dropped papers. Sans went over to him, bending down and asking if he was okay through the look he gave him. Papyrus nodded, then both skeletons rose back to full height, and moved along to rejoin the others. Papyrus stopped in front of the couch, his expression thoughtful.

"...THANK YOU, FLOWEY."

Flowey's brows rose far up his forehead. "...For what?"

Papyrus smiled, and softly patted the top of Frisk's head. "FOR REMINDING US OF HOW IMPORTANT IT IS THAT WE SUCCEED."

 

\----

"...so now, frisk feels like they can't trust themself around other people, especially people who don't know what we know. hell, the kid feels like they can't trust themself _period_. at least, not until we can figure out whether or not...'that' is happening again."

"...Damn."

"Oh..."

"No...N-Not again..."

It had been a long, strenuous undertaking to recount all the esoteric information accumulated thus far to those not yet privy to it. They were all now more or less completely caught up on Flowey's dilemma with the Underground, Frisk's fears of their own autonomy, the recorded events of earlier that morning, and even the details involving the abandoned reset test. It was a lot to share, but as Sans was keen on emphasizing, they deserved to know.

Undyne sat backwards in one of the chairs Alphys had brought out, her elbows resting on top of it and her legs straddling either side of it. Her mouth hung slightly open, her eye wide with realization as she ran a hand along the crown of her head. She now understood the order to Frisk's priorities.

Asgore had refused to take any of the seats Alphys had provided; none of them would support his girth. He wish he could sit down now, though. Instead, he leaned heavily against her computer desk, which creaked in protest against his weight. His eyes were wide with horror. He now understood why everything happening here was so important to Frisk; more important than seeking out proper medical health.

Toriel started off sitting in her provided chair properly, but by the time everything was said and done, she looked as though she would slip and fall out of it at any given moment. She had both paws clamped down over her mouth, her eyes wide and brimming with the beginnings of tears. She now understood what Flowey meant when he talked about robbing Frisk 'of what little free will they feel they have left'.

Sans blew out a small, winded sigh after he finished. "...yep. i think that about covers it." He looked to those who already knew what he just confessed. "did i miss anything, alph? pap?"

"N-No, I th-think you covered it all," Alphys replied, sounding somewhat distracted, from where she sat on the floor, pouring over printed readouts of Frisk's soul.

"I CANNOT THINK OF ANYTHING YOU MIGHT HAVE FAILED TO MENTION, BROTHER," Papyrus assured from where he sat on the floor near Alphys, doing his best to be helpful by assisting on the blueprint-cross-referencing front; he considered translating the enigmatic handwriting a great puzzle waiting for someone of his skills to finally solve, and he was ecstatically eager to tackle such a challenge.

Their answers satisfied Sans, who then turned back to the recently caught-up trio with a weary, yet understanding, expression. "sure is a lot to take in all at once, huh?" he asked rhetorically. "take all the time y'all need to let it all sink in. give either me or alph a holler when you're ready for a Q&A, or somethin'."

None of the three responded. Sans turned and walked toward where Alphys and Papyrus were seated. It was time for a shift in jobs; Papyrus was now to take over monitor duty, while Sans would take his place in blueprint-translating-

"Do you think it is all connected?"

Sans froze mid-step barely two steps away. Looked like the job shift was to be delayed a little while longer.

"...i'll be completely honest with you, asgore." Sans turned back around, yet did not return to where he was standing when he was explaining everything before. "i first thought we were just grasping at straws to think that. but, with flowey's recent...'observations', i really can't say whether or not that's the case now."

"I THEORIZED EARLIER THAT ALL THIS MIGHT ALSO BE WHY FRISK IS ILL IN THE FIRST PLACE," Papyrus added. "BUT, AS WITH EVERYTHING ELSE, WE HAVE YET TO DETERMINE WHETHER THAT MUCH IS TRUE OR NOT."

Asgore nodded sagely, his weary gaze focused on the two interconnecting columns on the blackboard.

"And what about this 'face'?" Undyne questioned, her gaze burning a hole into the blackboard as she chewed on one of her thumbnails. "What more do we know about it, other than it's what Frisk's looked like when you found them?"

Sans stole a glance at the paper he had pinned to the board, then shrugged. "the only thing we all can agree on is that we feel like it should be familiar to us, but for whatever reason, it doesn't."

Undyne grunted thoughtfully, and continued nibbling away at her nail.

"...why? d'you know anything about what or who it is?"

Undyne gave a low growl of frustration as she shook her head. "It's like you said, Sans. It's familiar, but I can't for the life of me figure out why it is. Or when or where I might've seen it before." She leaned off the back of the chair and crossed her arms, scowling deeply. "It's really pissing me off, to say the least."

Sans nodded in sympathy. "what about you, asgore? tori? d'you feel the same way when you see that face?"

Asgore's gaze focused intently on the pinned-up piece of parchment. He nodded slowly after a moment. Toriel, whose elbows were now propped up on her knees with her hands still covering her mouth, did not look to the illustration before curtly nodding. She seemed preoccupied.

Sans was reminded of something. "hey, tori? you were the first one to catch 'em sleep-walking, yeah? did anythin' unusual happen when you did?"

Toriel only briefly glanced up at the skeleton - a sign of acknowledgement - before her gaze refocused on empty space. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

"The lights in my kitchen had flickered sporadically before Frisk was roused from their sleep-walking spell that time. There was also a noise that, if I had to describe it, sounded like radio static, but far more nonsensical. And...I thought myself mad to think this before but, that sound..."

She opened her eyes again. She looked weary and defeated. "It vaguely sounded like...a voice. And before you ask, no. I could not discern what it might have been saying."

Sans stared, then dutifully crossed over to the board and added '(voice?)' next to the '-static' entry on Frisk's column. He, nor anyone else, wanted to mention that a certain theory was starting to look more and more like actual fact with this revelation.

"I still don't see how that _weed_ fits into all this," Undyne piped up, successfully steering the conversation away from the direction it was obviously heading towards. "How does he know so much about the resets, and about everything else, too?"

Eyes wandered and focused on Sans, if only because, other than Frisk, he knew about the resets more than anyone else. He took in each of their faces carefully before considering his answer. "...i can only assume frisk might've mentioned a few things to him to get him 'caught up' on everything but, and don't quote me on this...i think flowey has as much knowledge about the other timelines as i do. possibly even more. heh. good luck on trying to get him to open up about that, though."

Undyne didn't appear completely satisfied with that answer, but accepted it nonetheless. She turned her good eye toward the couch, to make sure the flower was keeping his hands-...leaves to himself, and to just glare at him in contempt. "And I still don't get how Frisk, of all people, can be so... _comfortable_ around him."

"yeah." Sans also looked toward the couch, focusing his dimly shining pupils on the out-of-earshot flower ignorant to the monsters' discussion. "you and me both."

"...Dr. Alphys."

Alphys stiffened with surprise and looked up. "Y-Yes, Y-Y-Your Majes- I-I mean, Toriel?"

Toriel had taken on a thoughtful countenance as she requested, "The device Frisk is currently wired to; please explain to me its primary purpose."

The scientist glanced over at said device, assessing it briefly, before looking back to Toriel and nervously adjusting her glasses. "Y-Yes, o-of course. Well, er, y-you all remember the device I used, uh, 'that night', right? The same I use during th-their 'check-ups'?" She waited until after she saw everyone nod before continuing. "What Frisk's hooked up to right now is b-basically a more souped-up version of that device. The wires are there because, well, Frisk is sick. It w-wouldn't be right to put more strain on them by making them k-keep their soul constantly exposed."

Toriel nodded, and Undyne inquired, "How's that going so far?"

Alphys stood and refocused her sights on the device again, mainly on its screen. "Wh-When I first hooked Frisk up to it, I had it run a quick, initial diagnosis, t-to set a parameter before it started doing the real, er, 'deep digging'. R-Right now, we're in a 'no news is good news' phase, a-and it should let me know the instant it finds anything, uh...y'know..."

"Will it?"

Alphys stiffened again. "Y...Your Majesty?"

"Are you certain it will work the way you say it will? You do not sound so certain to me."

Alphys staggered back a step, her mouth hanging open. She didn't reply.

There was a scrape as Undyne rose from her chair, glaring fiercely at Toriel. "What, _exactly_ , are you implying?" she demanded. Her voice rose by at least ten decibels when she added, "Are you saying it won't work? Are you calling her _stupid_ or something!?"

"I would never stoop to such levels of mockery. Nor am I questioning your intelligence, Dr. Alphys. I am sure you are very brilliant; why else would Asgore here have appointed you to the position of Royal Scientist? But...please...try to see how this looks from my position."

Toriel spoke and sat very rigidly, speaking through her interlaced fingers up until this point. When she straightened herself, placed her hands firmly in her lap and turned her head to face the ex-Royal Scientist full-on, the moistness of the fur around her eyes confirmed that, in no way, had she been trying to come across as cross or hurtful.

"Your patient is a _child_. A _human_ child. _My_ child. Who is very sick and fears very deeply that their own autonomy is irrefutably compromised. My understanding of what you are having your machine do is the equivalent of throwing their very soul onto a slab, thoroughly dissecting it, and examining every last picayune detail to catch the robber of their free will. And even then, this might all be happening just for us to find out there is no robber to catch at all. This much fills me with skepticism enough; all I ask is for you to at least _try_ to humor me a little."

Her hands trembled in her lap. The corners of her mouth quivered. Her eyes became misty with fresh tears. "Can you tell me, in confidence, that you are certain this method will be able to determine whether or not Frisk is being possessed again, Dr. Alphys?"

Toriel commanded and kept Alphys' undivided attention. The attentions of the four remaining monsters were divided between the two. Undyne hovered near her wife, one hand on her shoulder and a mix of concern and intrigue in her expression. Asgore hovered near his ex-wife, one hand barely touching her shoulder (ready to pull away at any given moment) and a mix of hesitance and despondency in his expression. Sans and Papyrus found themselves looking back and forth between the two, occasionally catching each other's eye and silently gauging each other's thoughts through these fleeting glances. Everyone waited with baited breath for the answer to Toriel's begging plead.

...

...

...

"I...can't."

Undyne slowly pulled her hand back.

"I'm so sorry..." Alphys' muscles went slack. Her head turned downward. She seemed to shrink under the brutal honesty of her answer. "B-But I...I _can't_."

Toriel exhaled loudly through her nose, her eyes tightly closed, and her head turned down to her lap.

Asgore gently squeezed her shoulder. Sans and Papyrus stared forlornly at each other. No one said anything for the longest time, the silence between them filled by the clock's tick-tock, and the hum of electricity powering each varying piece of equipment set up in Alphys' lab.

"...But, l-let's get real here; what other choice do we have at this point? How else can we know if someone's been possessing Frisk again _other_ than thoroughly searching their soul?"

The others were too numb at this point to react to the sharp, somewhat hysterical tone Alphys' voice had taken on as she continued, "It's where it happened last time, after all. Even if it was just clinging around the edges, it was still powerful and aware enough to manipulate Frisk into doing what it wanted. And who knows? _Maybe_ we shouldn't be looking for something new, but something we might've been completely overlooking the whole time!"

Sans' pupils blacked out as he turned his forlorn stare down at the floor.

"I keep going over the readouts I've collected from their past 'check-ups', hoping to find some discrepancy or fluctuation that might hint at the possibility that I _have_ been overlooking something the whole time, but no matter how many times I check and recheck them, the numbers all come up the same! Nothing's different about their soul from when I first checked it that night! But you know what I've just realized??"

She looked to the papers on the floor containing the mentioned readouts before sending her foot swiftly toward them, sending them ascatter in a flurry. "Checking-up on their soul every month has been _pointless_ from the start! How can I expect to figure out if there's something in there that's not supposed to be there if I have no idea what Frisk's soul was like _before_ they started being possessed the first time?! These readouts are completely _useless_! I've been wasting everyone's time by getting those from my dinky piece of _junk_ I call a soul scanner!"

Papyrus tensed and looked down. If he had lips, he'd be chewing on one right now.

" _Maybe_ if I had only used the big one from the start, we wouldn't be here speculating how many, if any, demons are 'sharing' Frisk's soul! That's is main purpose, after all! To completely shift through and extrapolate data about every aspect of human souls! I built it during my tenure as the Royal Scientist; to isolate what exactly caused them to persist after death, I had to essentially pick them apart then put them back together! I didn't have to be worried about asking the souls if they were okay with such an invasion of privacy back then because, hey, _they were already DEAD!_ "

Asgore had removed his hand from Toriel's shoulder at the first mention of 'human souls'. With that last word, the hand that had been on her shoulder clenched tightly, so much so thick tendons popped out beneath his white fur.

"I made and used the 'watered-down', less extreme version on the monsters in my care back then to monitor what effects the Determination I had extracted from the human souls and injected into theirs! They could still give or take away consent, after all! No need to completely pick apart and examine every detail of their souls when all I was aiming to do was see what effects a new element introduced to them would have! So therein lies _another_ of the many many mistakes I've made in trying to prove all I've been doing with Frisk's soul was actually _good_ for something! I used a device that's better used on monsters' souls on a human soul!! How could I have been so _stupid_?!"

Toriel's head turned slightly upward. Her eyes partially opened. Her brows creased. She gave off a vibe of something akin to resentment.

"And that theory about Frisk being sick because something bad's happening with their soul; who knows!? That can certainly happen to a monster! Because monsters' bodies are far more in-tune with their souls, and vice versa! But Frisk isn't a monster! I can't treat them like one! But you know what I realize? I can't treat them like a human, either! Because no human has ever been through what Frisk has been through during all their 'times' in the Underground! Hell, _no one_ has ever been through what Frisk's been through! Their circumstances are completely unique! I would even go so far as to say their very _existence_ is unique! Something never before dealt with by _anyone_! I can't afford to be all 'trial and error' with them! I don't know _what_ I can do for them! If I do something right, then hooray! A leap in scientific progress to go down in history! But if I fail! ...if I...i-if I f-fail..."

Alphys had been talking nonstop throughout her tirade. It came out very quickly and all at once, like word-vomit. But the steady stream of words had finally come to an end when the thought - more like _threat_ \- of failure crossed her mind and slipped out among the 'vomit'. "I-I-If I-I f-f-f-f _ail_..."

She collapsed to her knees in a shuddering heap. Her eyes went wide behind her glasses, her pupils tiny. Her hands clamped down on both sides of her head, her claws digging into her pale yellow scales. Her breathing hitched, and she started hyperventilating. "N-No. Oh g-god _no_. I can't. I c-can't fail again. Not with this. N-Not with Frisk. Too much. T-T-Too much at s-stake. Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god no no no _no no no no no_...!"

No one else had a chance to get a word in during the 'word-vomit'. Now, Undyne wasted no time in sweeping in and kneeling down in front of her panic-stricken wife.

"Alphys. Alphys, babe, look at me. Look at me, babe." Exercising softness and comfort she'd never show in front of anyone else, Undyne placed her hands over Alphys', and got her to focus her wide-eyed stare on her face, which held nothing in it but love and caring, and seemed to radiate a soothing aura; a stark contrast to the usual aura of fierce intensity the former captain would give off with just a glance.

"Breathe, babe. Just breathe. Focus on nothing but your breathing. And me. Focus on me. Nothing else matters. Just breathe..."

Breathe she did. And it was in her wife's soothing words and calm reassurance that she was able to calm and even out her breathing quickly. At least, more quickly than she'd done previously, when she only had herself to count on to pull herself out of the crippling moment of stress-induced anxiety. Eventually, her breathing started breaching levels of normalcy, as did her shuddering. She felt exhausted and spent, like all her limbs had turned to jelly, and there were tears in her eyes. But at least she had the wherewithal to give her beloved a small, grateful smile.

Undyne half returned that smile before leaning forward, and resting her forehead against Alphys'. "You're brilliant, babe. So very, very brilliant," she said quietly, her thumbs rubbing tiny circles against the claws beneath her hands. "You're the smartest person I know. Sure, you've made some mistakes, but that's something everyone does. Even I've made mistakes."

"T-That's...hard t-to believe," Alphys jokingly stammered.

"I know, right?" Undyne grinned. "Making mistakes is okay, but if you keep going like you're going, you're gonna make one that you're gonna really end up regretting." She pulled back a little so the two could see eye to eye. "You're stressed out. You're overworked. You've been taking on the workload of, like, 10 people all by yourself; you have no _idea_ how many times I've done that, and it ended badly. It's at times like these that we tend to get sloppy, that the really major, regrettable mistakes happen. You need to take a breather. To take a break and unwind, and let us lighten the load. Sure, all this sciency stuff isn't exactly my thing, but if you tell me what to do and how to do it...well, I'll still be nowhere near as good as you, but I'll make you proud!"

Alphys sniffled loudly. A moment was spent in thoughtful consideration before she wearily nodded. "I r-really have been doing t-too much on my own, huh?"

Undyne grinned broadly, then gave Alphys a quick, deep kiss before helping her back to her feet. Her hands lingered on her shoulders to make sure she wouldn't topple over or anything, and when that was accomplished, she still kept one hand there for reassurance's sake. The couple looked back to the audience they remembered they had, and found one member of which on her feet, looking truly admonished.

"Dr. Alphys I...I am sorry," Toriel said softly, her voice constricted with emotion. "You have been under enough pressure as is; it was wrong of me to cast doubt over you like that. It's just...just that..."

"We have lost enough children already," Asgore said in place of what Toriel couldn't, his head turned away and his eyes avoiding looking at anyone. "We do not want to entertain the thought of having to lose another."

Alphys winced at the implication, but stood her ground. "I-I know where y-you're coming from, b-but, c'mon, g-give me a little credit. I've been v-very careful in searching Frisk's soul. Th-The last thing I want is to d-do something hurtful to them. Th-That's the whole point of doing this; to make sure Frisk d-doesn't end up hurting again."

"Yeah!" Undyne declared, a look of fierce determination on her face. "You're not the only ones that care about what happens to them!"

"we _all_ care about what happens to the kid," Sans confirmed, a lazy yet genuine grin and wink combo on his face. "why else would we all still be here, talkin' about it, doin' all we can to help 'em?"

"WE ARE THE ONLY ONES THEY TRUST WITH FINDING THE SOLUTION TO THEIR DILEMMA, AND TO KEEP THEM SAFE UNTIL SUCH SOLUTIONS ARE FOUND." Papyrus pounded his fist to his chest plate, a heroic grin taking up most of his face. "I AM SURE WE CANNOT FAIL IF ALL OF US WORK TOGETHER TO FIND THE SOLUTION! WE MUST ALL BELIEVE IN OURSELVES! LIKE I DO! NYEH HEH HEH!"

The two former royals found themselves looking to each other, silently sharing their thoughts, fears, and worries through the looks they gave each other. Asgore eventually gave a small nod. Toriel eventually took a deep, steadying breath and turned to look at the others. Both appeared to have come to a decision. "What will you have us do to assist you, Dr. Alphys?"

Dividing the labor between herself and Flowey when this all began had been a strenuous undertaking. When Sans and Papyrus joined, they brought with them more problems to try to solve, but also provided their services to help solve those problems along with the previous one. Now, Alphys was being met with three more pairs of hands, minds, and eyes (technically two and a half on that last one) to further divide the labor and lighten the load. She was so happy she felt like she was going to cry. "Uh. R-Right! Okay. Well, um, let's see wh-what I can have you do..."

As Alphys busied herself determining who would do best with which job and re-dividing the labor among the six of them, Sans took the time to steal a furtive glance couch-ward, at the two beings upon it. Flowey looked dismissively indifferent, and his mouth moved as though talking to himself. Frisk, sitting with their legs tucked up beneath them, was slumped against the back of the couch, looking as though they were finally getting some much-needed shut-eye. Sans' gaze lingered on their face, and he felt the smile on his own lessen.

God. Possessed. Monster. Human. To think of Frisk as anything other than the sick little kid sitting right there was to think of them other than the version of themself that had brought down the barrier, the pacifist that freed monsters from their millennia of imprisonment. To recall the would-have-been's that became never-will-be's. To remember that there was a time - several, actually - that Frisk was more than Frisk. That Frisk hadn't been just Frisk from the start.

That the truth of the matter was...Frisk's very existence really _was_ unique.

"...and, Papyrus, if y-you want a break from blueprint duties, Undyne can take over."

"NYEH, THANK YOU, BUT NO. I BELIEVE MY EFFORTS ARE BEST SUITED HERE. WHY, I BELIEVE I'VE EVEN SUCCESSFULLY DECIPHERED SOMETHING!"

Sans was roused from his thoughts with this proclamation. With a start, he turned to his brother. "whadja find, pap?"

"ADMITTEDLY, I DECIPHERED THIS QUITE A BIT AGO. BUT EVERYONE WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF OUR FERVENT DISCUSSIONS AT THE TIME, AND I DID NOT WISH TO INTERRUPT." He leafed through some of the reference notes Alphys had provided him with until he found the one he was looking for. He pulled that out and laid it beside the blueprints Sans had provided as both Undyne and Alphys drew close. "GOING BY THESE NOTES OF TRANSLATIONS FROM ANOTHER SET OF MYSTERIOUS BLUEPRINTS, I WAS ABLE TO DETERMINE A FEW WORDS FROM THE ONES YOU PROVIDED, BROTHER."

Alphys' eyebrows rose up her forehead. "Another...set?"

"THE WORDS I'VE BEEN ABLE TO TRANSLATE THUSFAR ARE 'MATRICES' AND 'OSCILLATIONS' AND OTHER SUCH JARGON. BUT SOMETHING IN PARTICULAR SIGNIFICANTLY STANDS OUT. SANS-" Papyrus turned to his brother, a would be brow furrowed in curiosity. "-DID YOU GET THESE FROM THE CORE? BECAUSE IT SEEMS THAT, WHATEVER THIS MACHINE IS, IT IS SUPPOSED TO BE USED AT THE CORE. OR, IS PART OF THE CORE??? THAT PART REMAINS UNCLEAR AT PRESENT."

Sans' sockets widened significantly. "the...core?"

He and Alphys shared wide-eyed looks. "Th-That...reminds me." Looking gaunt, Alphys questioned Undyne and Papyrus, "D-Do either of you r-remember who created the Core?"

Papyrus and Undyne looked to each other with a start. "You mean it wasn't you, babe?" Undyne replied.

"N-No, it definitely wasn't me. It was b-built and completed by the time I started working there."

"AND IT COULDN'T BE THAT THE CORE WAS ALWAYS JUST... _THERE_?"

"D-Definitely not. I remember that _someone_ created it, b-but I can't picture their face o-or anything else about them. Not even a name..." Alphys looked back to Sans, distress creasing her face. "Sans why would you have blueprints for something like this in your basement?"

Papyrus gaped at his brother. "WE HAVE A BASEMENT???"

"While we're at it-" Joining in the let's-all-stare-at-Sans movement, Undyne asked, "-all that talk about how the Core might be causing space to get all twisted and stuff, and those weird 'shortcuts' of yours being you 'safely bending space' or however you guys put it; how the hell are you even able to do that?? 'Cause from where I'm standing-" Her eye narrowed in growing suspicion. "-it really looks to me like you know a lot more about this whole thing than you're letting on."

Sans felt stiff in the sudden limelight their inquiries had thrown him into. Needless to say, it gave him stage fright. He fell into silence, his sockets staring blankly ahead, not really trying to look at anyone or anything as his mind raced.

The basement in his and his brother's old home in Snowdin. The hidden machine and blueprints tucked away in there. The recently enlightened fact that said blueprints were for a machine whose purpose resides with the Core, which very well might currently be causing anomalies in the fabric of space itself. His 'shortcuts', which may very well be him safely bending space to his will to get from Point A to Point B. How did it all tie together? He thought about it. He thought and thought and thought and thought and then...

"...heh. heh heh. heh heh heh..."

Varying expressions of bewilderment and concern crossed the faces of those staring at the smaller skeleton.

"it's...funny. something that important..." His dark sockets turned toward the ground, Sans reached a hand up to stroke the crown of his round white skull. "you'd think i'd... _remember_ it...heh..."

Bewilderment and concern persisted. Papyrus, Alphys, and Undyne shared these emotions when they looked to one another.

"Excuse me, Dr. Alphys?"

Alphys was given such a spook she nearly tripped over nothing while standing still. "Y-Yes, Your M-Maj-er, A-Asgore?"

"I apologize if I am interrupting anything," Asgore said humbly from where he stood a few feet behind the scientist, scratching nervously at the back of his head. "But, well, we believe one of your monitors is malfunctioning."

"Malf-" Alphys straightened with a start, then rushed with a surprising amount of purpose toward where Toriel stood, lightly tapping one of the screens in the monitor monolith with the tip of her finger.

"You instructed me and Asgore to alert you should we spot anything unusual with the monitors," Toriel reported as Alphys approached. "Does this count as unusual, Doctor?"

The monitor in question was positioned in the very center row of the monitor monolith, about three columns in from the left side. Nothing had changed about its outward, physical appearance, but the feedback it displayed wavered and convulsed until, soon enough, the whole image became nothing but colorful, nonsensical pixilations that continued to sporadically spasm, even as the pixilations lost what harsh, garish coloration they had.

Alphys' eyes bulged and widened so greatly, her glasses nearly fell off.

"Oh boy. Oooohhhh boy. Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy oh boy oh boy it's happening. _It is happening._ "

At once, Sans and the other monsters looked to her in alarm. "the weirdness?"

Alphys' head bobbed up and down so quickly, her glasses fell off. "The weirdness!"

"Um."

Sans, Asgore, Papyrus, and Undyne converged around the monitor Toriel and Alphys were already at, their previously assigned roles forgotten in their curiosity. "So the 'weirdness' is just one of your monitors freaking out and going all...glitchy?" Undyne pondered, having to pause to find a fitting word to describe what she was looking at.

"It's one of the first signs of it!" Ordinarily, Alphys would jitter and tremble because of nerves and anxiety. Now, she jittered and trembled because of a surge of excitement and adrenaline. Slowing only to retrieve her glasses, she nearly knocked Toriel over in her haste to get to the computer on her desk, and was barely able to keep her hands steady enough to input a few commands into its keyboard. "Another one is-yes. Yes! It worked! Ha ha! It worked!!"

Alphys bounced up and down in place for a few moments - a small allowance to enjoy her small victory - before explaining, "The program I've been having my computer run all this time is an algorithm I created for reading the unknown energy building up in the Core and translating it into data I can more easily understand! So that when I catch the weirdness in the act, I'll be able to discern exactly what's going on! And it worked!”

Though she didn't have much of a clue what she was going on about, pride filled Undyne to see her wife being so passionate and proud of herself. "Way to go, babe!!"

"Uh. Guys?"

"You all remember me mentioning that I originally thought the camera feed from the Core was all 'glitchy' and stuff because it was malfunctioning, yeah? Sans and I earlier theorized that it wasn't in fact malfunctioning, but that there was some sort of spacial anomaly happening in that part of the Underground and the cameras didn't know how to process it. So instead of showing what's happening there, all the feedback would show was this static!"

Nods of understanding rippled through the group. "So what happens now?" inquired Undyne.

Alphys fished out of a drawer a laptop computer, a wireless keyboard that had both knobs and buttons on it, and a couple of cable cords. "Now, since the algorithm I've been running worked-" She did a little fist bump to herself as the laptop booted up. "-if I hook up the feed up to this-" She connected the laptop and the 'glitching' monitor with the longer cable. "-and run the algorithm against it-" The shorter cord she used to connect the laptop and the other computer. "-I'll be able to see what's going on back in the Underground without all this interference! To, er, 'clean up' this glitchy nonsense!"

Everything was hooked up. The laptop sat next to the desktop computer and showed the monitor's feedback in one window and the algorithm from the first computer in another. Alphys held the wireless keyboard in one hand, and used the other to press its buttons and turn its knobs. "It'll just take a few more moments for fine tuning, a-and we should be able to get a better idea of exactly what we're dealing with!"

"G...G-Guys??"

The others remained quiet as Alphys typed away at her keyboard, transfixed by how passionately the scientist worked. Her eyes remained glued to her laptop's screen as she worked, watching with great scrutiny as, little by little, the feedback became less monochrome, less pixilated. "By the way, which monitor is this?" she eventually asked, not once straying her sights from her work.

Being the closest, Toriel looked and answered, "It is the one labeled 'castle_prebarrier'."

"Hmm," Alphys hummed thoughtfully. "That'd be...the room behind the throne room, right outside where the barrier used to be."

Eyes lit up in recognition. "THAT IS WERE WE ALL CONGREGATED TO MAKE SURE FRISK AND ASGORE DID NOT FIGHT, IS IT NOT?" Papyrus recollected.

"sure is," Sans agreed. "why d'you ask, alph?"

The clacking paused briefly as Alphys took a second to adjust her glasses. "I mentioned before that there's been no pattern to when or where the weirdness happens, yeah? Well, in the previous times that the weirdness happened...it's never happened this close to the surface before. It's a little...disquieting, to say the least."

Faces went gaunt with realization. "Are you saying...this 'weirdness' has the potential to leak into the surface?" morbidly asked Asgore.

The clacking slowed to a stop. Alphys frowned. "I'm saying..." Finally she tore her gaze away from her computer, to give her audience a grave look of mixed emotions, none of which were very happy. "I sure hope it doesn-"

" _HEY MORONS!!!_ "

 

\----

Flowey waited until long after Papyrus stopped patting Frisk's head and walked away before finally showing some semblance of emotion on his face. "...Ha. He's grateful for _that_?" A sneer of contempt was cast at the skeleton's back. "That guy's chock-full of sickening enthusiasm, but that's really reaching even for _him_."

He felt a small nudge at the base of his stem. It was the end of Frisk's pen. He looked down at it, then up at Frisk. "What?" he asked flatly.

There was a small smile on Frisk's sickly pale face. Not saying a word, they used their pen to point down at the small space between where the two of them sat, where their notebook laid. He followed the pen to find a new message had been written out for him to read, but definitely not aloud again:

_really_  
_thanks_

Flowey stared, then snorted a scoff. "For what? Reminding those idiots of the facts?" He snorted haughtily again. " _Someone_ needed to get those morons back in line. They're completely useless if they're all bickering with each other."

Frisk's smile remained. Annoyance crept into the flower's expression. "I just wanted them to leave us alone so we could get back to our conversation they all so _rudely_ interrupted! Now where were we?!"

Frisk slowly flipped back a couple of pages in the notebook until they found the one they were looking for. It had several crossed-out statements on it, but one remained un-stricken. And it was from there that they both recalled the place where they had left off when Toriel had arrived.

It hadn't really been so much a 'conversation' than it had been Flowey quietly (so others couldn't listen in) interrogating Frisk on their goings-on during the past two years, more information about their resets, and other such things, and Frisk silently writing down the answers as best they could. It was during this time that Frisk learned that the 'save points' were no longer available for Flowey's use, just like they were no longer available for Frisk's; information that would probably prove helpful for Sans and Alphys, but due to the oath of secrecy Frisk swore to, such information stayed between the two of them.

They resumed 'conversing' as Sans, Papyrus, and Alphys took Toriel, Asgore, and Undyne aside to catch them up on everything. It continued on for a while until Flowey fell silent, and not because he was trying to think up what next to ask.

Frisk traced a question mark out on the paper between them.

"...So I'm just gonna go ahead and address the elephant in the room if it's all the same to you," Flowey said after a while, turning a suspicious eye onto the human before him. "Are we just gonna keep pretending we can't hear practically every word the 'adults' are saying over there?"

Frisk wrote down a single ' _yep_ '.

"Even though they think they're being sneaky and quiet about it?"

_yep_

"...Even though they're talking about us? About _you_?"

_yep_

Flowey frowned deeply. "...Why?"

_because this is our one-on-one time_  
_I didn't want you to get angry again because of another interuption_

Flowey stared at these last two lines for quite a spell. When he looked up to study Frisk's face, his own had a sneer on it. "You spelled 'interruption' wrong, idiot."

Frisk didn't so much as give a dismissive shrug. They didn't seem to be entirely there, either. Consciously speaking.

Flowey frowned, and hmph-ed lowly. "So...are you really not gonna tell me just _what_ you had to do to get Chara to leave you alone?"

That sure brought them back to reality. Flowey watched as their shoulders tensed before they wrote down a very decisive ' _nope_ ' onto the page.

Flowey's face turned sly. "So I guess that means I'll just have to speculate, huh?"

_you can if you want to_  
_don't expect a confurmation though_

"Now you spelled 'confirmation' wrong! Ugh! I swear if you're doing this just to spite me-" Flowey paused when he heard breathless snickers. "-Oh hardy har har. You must be getting lessons from Smiley if your sense of humor is _this_ horrible."

The chuckles turned into coughs that, while no longer powerful enough to quake Frisk's entire frame, were enough to make the attempted joking mood dissipate like smoke. Flowey stared at Frisk as the coughs continued, surreptitiously eyeing the telltale drops of red that were expelled with practically every hack.

"...Frisk."

Left not-so-subtly trembling after the coughing fit finally subsided, Frisk only had strength to give the flower a questioning look instead of asking (writing) proper why his voice had become so suddenly serious.

Said seriousness persisted in Flowey's expression as he asked, "How many times have you gotten the 'good ending'?"

Frisk's trembles slowly ceased.

"Don't look at me like that it's a serious question!" Flowey snapped, his petals bristling. "I want to know how many times you've gotten the ending where you find out who I am and the barrier gets destroyed!"

His tone was still hushed, so as not to alert the 'adults', but what his voice lacked in volume made up in firm solemnity. Frisk continued to eye him thoughtfully before, after turning to a new page because the one they were on was getting full, writing down their answer:

_this is the only time I've gotten the 'good ending'_

His eyes followed their every move as they traced these words out. His petals remained bristled, but not so much as before. "...Okay. Follow-up question: has Asgore lost his marbles?"

Frisk looked too dumbfounded by the question to trace out even a single question mark.

Flowey bit down lightly on his lower lip and looked past Frisk. The adults were still conversing amongst each other, and it didn't look like any of them were paying the two 'children' any mind. Still, when Flowey turned back to look Frisk dead in the eye, he spoke in a monotone so hushed he had to lean forward to make sure Frisk would hear him properly.

"You and I know very damn well I've never been affected by your resets. I remember _everything_ from your timelines. The only conceivable way I can think of for why I _might_ not remember something from your resets is if you reset everything after the barrier got destroyed. You've never done that, or so you claim, so it stands to reason that I should still remember everything. But what Asgore said earlier? How I 'warned him' about something in another timeline? I don't remember that at all! So, either you're lying, or Asgore's gone off the reservation. Because why else can't I remember doing that, huh??"

The two stared at each other. One intensely, one calmly. One trying to be intimidating, one trying to be understanding. One searching for the truth, one contemplating how to go about giving it. Both were silent, making the loudest noise between them the soft tapping of Frisk idly rapping their pen against the notebook between them.

Frisk broke eye contact first. They looked down at the notebook and began writing. Flowey kept staring forward, suppressing urges of curiosity to see what was being written so he could try to feel satisfied with the payoff. Keyword being 'try'. And he waited only until after the sound of the pen scratching across the parchment stopped and stayed stopped for a full five seconds before looking down.

_what's the earliest of my timelines that you remember?_

If ever there was a moment of greater dissatisfaction Flowey experienced before now, he was sure it didn't exist. Payoff? More like ripoff.

"Are you _serious_?!" he snapped, voice almost reaching yelling levels before he forcefully reigned it in. "What kind of a jerk answers a question with another question?!"

_it's relevant_  
_trust me_

"Yeah, right! How can such a stupid question be relevant to anything?!"

But that's all they wrote. And under their expectant stare, Flowey's expression of justified annoyance slowly vanished, leaving neutral consideration to take its place. He kept Frisk's heavy-lidded-with-exhaustion gaze for a few moments longer before rolling his eyes and looking away.

"Fine. _Fine_. Whatever. You wanna take a stroll down memory lane? Let's take a nice long stroll down memory lane!"

Only the sound of their slow, shallow breaths answered him as he rolled his head back, staring blankly at the ceiling as he contemplated their answering inquiry. The earliest of Frisk's timelines. That sure happened a while ago, relatively speaking. But he remembered it. He remembered all of their timelines, after all. And the earliest of Frisk's timelines, the one where he first met them...

"You immediately caught onto the fact that my little...'friendliness pellets' weren't so friendly, and avoided every last one of them. I got mad - or whatever passes off for mad for someone like me - and dropped the pleasantries, tried to kill you right then and there. Then _she_ interfered. She led you deeper into the Ruins, explaining all the puzzles and stuff. Then she left you alone, and then you killed everyone that crossed your path until there was no one left to cut down. You got to Home, and for some reason she decided to completely overlook the dust on your hands. Heh, betcha she thought it was from the crumbling buildings the Ruins are full of instead of the remains of her fellow monsters.

"You kept pestering her on how to leave the Ruins. She said she was going to permanently block the exit. She instigated a fight with you. You killed her with one hit. She died laughing. We met again, and I made the presumption that you were Chara. You didn't say anything, but I was convinced. You continued to the Snowdin forest and met up with Smiley Trashbag. He immediately suspected you were dangerous, but did nothing about it. Hee hee, if there's always one thing you can count on with that walking piece of garbage, it's that he's always the watcher, but never the fighter. Except in special...occasions.

"Still under the assumption that you were Chara, I rigged all of Papyrus' puzzles so you wouldn't have to do them. You're welcome, by the way. You continued on your murder streak. Everyone in Snowdin got evacuated. Papyrus stayed. Guess he got under the impression that he could 'turn your life around' or whatever it was. I knew you could take him down with one blow, just like you had with everyone else. He was a goner, I was sure of that, but then you...you spared him. And then I wasn't so entirely convinced you were..."

A groan of frustration left him as Flowey turned his head forward. "Is that enough of an answer for you yet, idiot? It'd better be 'cause I'm getting bored of talking while you just sit there aaaaaaaaand you're asleep. Great. My luck just keeps getting better and better."

Though weakness and hoarseness persisted in it, Frisk's breathing had become slow and deep. They sat with their side slumped against the back of the couch, their head lolled to one side, and their eyelids hanging heavily closed. The blankets and bundle of clothes they'd been swaddled in were starting to slip off; they were completely out of it.

Flowey frowned. "You're really not gonna wake up, are you?"

No response.

"Meaning I'm probably gonna have to repeat everything when you _do_ , huh?"

No response.

Flowey stared a while longer, then sighed. "I'd wake you up myself right now, but _noooo_. Can't touch even one hair on your head. And don't think that's because I'm actually _intimidated_ by Undyne's threat. Because I'm not. Heck, that's no where even near the best threat I've heard from her. Didn't even say she was going to turn my petals into tea and use the rest of my dead, withered body as a toothpick once she was done with me. _That_ was a good one, heh..."

The brick wall Frisk had become remained unfazed. They were nearly as still and silent as one, too. Why, if not for the rise and fall of their chest pushing raspy breaths through their slightly parted mouth, the mistake could be made that they were actually-

Flowey stiffened with revelation. Slowly, his petals started to sag, a train of thought running faster than he could stop it.

"...Get where I'm coming from, huh?" His expression became one of dismissive indifference, but there was something in his quiet voice - wistfulness? regret? - that betrayed his platitudinous demeanor. "Yeah, you might _think_ you do, but that's something you'd have to live through to actually understand why I..."

Whatever had overcome him to forego his pride enough to admit this much seemed dead set on sticking around. Maybe it was the familiar face currently unable to talk back that made the words come, the thoughts flow, the memories return. Either way, Frisk's unconscious body proved to be the ideal sounding board for the sentient flower that was far, far more than what he appeared to be.

"You can't understand what it feels like to watch your best friend die a slow, painful death. One that you helped instigate and enable. I do. Or at least, I _remember_ what it felt like. And what it felt like to combine our souls within my old body. What it felt like to pass through the barrier, to taste the open air, to feel actual sunshine on my fur...and what it felt like to die for the first time."

Cold reminiscence weaved into his words. "...I remember how angry Chara was with me, for deciding not to attack the humans that ruthlessly attacked us. I remember how hotly their rage seemed to burn through our shared body, trying to force me to go back and finish what we started. I wonder if that's what it felt like for you, whenever you resisted their will. Maybe that's why you don't want to talk about what all happened between you two, how you got them to leave you alone. But you're also telling me that they might actually _not_ have left you completely alone? Now you're afraid to stick up for yourself again, after everything you experienced with them before..."

A derisive scoff breathed through his mouth. "Heh, all that big talk earlier about 'fighting back' and other such nonsense; bet it really sounded like I was projecting there, didn't it? And maybe...I was. I still stick by what I said two years ago; that maybe Chara really wasn't the greatest person. Hearing what they put you through has more or less confirmed I was right to say that. But, from what you told me, Chara must've heard me say that, too. And if they heard me say that about them..."

A moment of quiet passed. Flowey's mouth formed a trembling grimace. "...Did they know, Frisk? Before they moved on, before 'this' time; did they ever know who I am? Who I used to be?"

He expected no answer, yet was still disappointed not to receive one. A bittersweet grin curved his mouth and he turned his gaze upward. "And now you're telling me...they still might be in that soul of yours. That they might be listening in on everything I've been saying about them..." A breathless, joyless chuckle left his mouth. "To tell you the truth, Frisk...if they _are_ still in there, and we had the opportunity that we could actually sit down and talk...I don't think I would-"

There was a low, buzzing hum as the lights overhead flickered, even though they were turned off. Whatever had manifested in Flowey to turn him into such a sappy chatterbox withered up and died in record time. He frowned deeply.

"...That was weird," he stated flatly. "But, considering all the other weird stuff I've seen today alone, guess some faulty wiring makes it pretty low on...that...list..."

His head had turned back to its previous position. It became frozen in that placement, as had the rest of his tiny body. He became very wide-eyed.

"Um."

How loudly did he say that? Not loudly enough, apparently. He did not see any of the adults so much as glance his way.

"Uh. Guys?"

He tried again to get their attention. This attempt failed, too. He felt his eyes grow wider. Felt tiny tremors start shaking his body.

"G...G-Guys??"

Why were they ignoring him? Surely not out of spite, right?? So out of importance to their own menial tasks. That must be it. But those tasks could wait! They had to! They had to address the panic slipping into his voice, the panic completely overwhelming him with each passing moment the others continued not answering him.

Panic spawned from the sight directly before his eyes.

They continued ignoring him. The panic became too much. And it all came rushing out in a screech he made so loud and demanding, they must surely answer his calls now.

" _HEY MORONS!!!_ "

 

\----

The loud screech demanded everyone stop what they were doing, turn their attentions to the screech's origin. They did, with varying degrees of annoyance and curiosity on their faces.

Those all drained away once they saw what the screeching flower was seeing.

And it was at that point that one thing became irrefutably obvious:

Asgore was correct in his assumption that it was all connected.


	14. Chapter 14

_..._

_......_

_........._

_"...nngh..."_

_You find yourself lying face down on the ground when you finally come to. There's a sharp, stinging ache on the back of your head, aftermath of the blow that knocked you out cold for who knows how long. You dizzily push yourself onto your elbows, then your hands and knees. You squeeze your eyes tightly shut, let the dizziness run its course while not bothering to probe the swollen lump no doubt at the epicenter of the pain on the back of your head, right at the base of your skull. Eventually, you're able to lift your head up, open your eyes-_

_“Morning!”_

_-and immediately look upon the smiling face of your best friend just inches in front of yours._

_A yelp of shock escapes your mouth as you throw yourself back and fall flat onto your butt, putting a fair distance between your face and Flowey's. Your eyes never stray from his._

_"Golly, you were out of it for such a long time," he confesses in false sympathy. "I was starting to worry I had hit you so hard that it killed you! But thank goodness that didn't happen, right? Otherwise, I couldn't have fun with you anymore! And that'd be a real shame, now wouldn't it?"_

_He snickers giddily. Fear's grip starts finding purchase. You start pushing yourself backwards along the ground, further distancing yourself from the flower. And it's only when you feel the side of your pinky graze across something that's not the ground that you stop and finally tear your gaze away from him._

_Shards of glass litter the ground behind you. They're both coated in clear, unknown liquid and partially submerged in shallow puddles of it._

_"Finally got it, didn't you, idiot?" Flowey's voice darkly mocks in response to the horrid realization dawning your face. "While you guys were having your little pow-wow, I took the human souls!"_

_A noise other than his voice registers in your ears. It sounds like something's...squirming. Clenching. Squeezing._

_"And now, not only are_ those _under my power..."_

_You turn your head up, following the sound. Unspeakable horror seizes you once you finally pinpoint its origin._

_"But all your friends' souls are gonna be mine, too!"_

_You were right. It was a trap. But, all too unfortunately, you did not realize it in time. Nor did you warn them in time. And now, it's too late. Flowey has them. They're dangling high above you, ensnared in Flowey's thick, human soul-empowered vines. They're trapped. They're hurting. They're suffering._

_"And you know what the best part is?"_

_You feel your eyes sting._

_"It's all. Your._ Fault. _"_

_"No...NO!!"_

_Out of some sense of defiance or denial, you spring to your feet and rush toward the dangling bodies of your friends. You know full well it's all in vain, but you still push on. And you're just able to brush the tip of one of your fingers against the fluffy pink fabric of one of Sans' slippers before you're once again accosted by one of Flowey's vines._

_It slams into you with the force of a wrecking ball, lashing out against your front with enough force to throw you off your feet, knock you to the ground, make you skid across it, completely knock the air out of you, but not enough to kill you. Definitely not enough to kill you. Flowey doesn't want that yet. He wants you to pay attention to him. Wants it to be undivided. He wants to have his fun first._

_Disoriented by the blow, hissing at the broad ache stretching across most of your torso, you're unable to fully recover before Flowey asserts his main body directly in front of your face, his own halfway overtaken by a cruel, sneering grin._

_"It's all your fault," he maliciously reminds you. "It's all because you_ made them _love you. All the time you spent listening to them, encouraging them, caring about them. Without that, they wouldn't have come here. Without that..."_

_He suddenly lunges forward, eyes boring into you, making only a breath's distance between your faces as he jeers, "_ They wouldn't be suffering right now. _"_

_You hear something clenching above you. It's followed instantly after by restrained gasps of pain._

_"And now-" He backs off a bit, glee in his hollow, fanged grin. "-with their souls and the humans' together, I will achieve my_ real form.

_"So, really-" He moves closer, expression smug as you feel another of his vines patting the side of your cheek; a 'good job' gesture. "-thanks a whole bunch for manipulating them into being friends with you!"_

_This can't be happening. It can't end like this. After all the time you've spent this time, never once lifting your hand in violence, always doing all within your power to be kind and understanding. They had all come to support you because of this. They had all come here to make sure no one would have to fight or die because of this. And now, to be told it's precisely because you chose to walk the pacifist's route that they're suffering now...it's too cruel. It's just too cruel._

_"Why..?"_

_"Huh?"_

_Your hands balled into fists against the ground, tears of frustration misting your eyes, you helplessly demand, "Why are you still doing this??"_

_"_ Why _am I still doing this? Hah! Do you really not get it yet?!"_

_Another vine, thick and needle sharp, erupts from the ground beneath you, its tip aimed straight for your neck. It stops just short enough for the tip to touch your skin. You become deathly still. It then pushes against your throat, making you move away from it. It keeps moving, forcing you to, too. Like a snake charmer, he 'charms' you into getting back to your feet, making you look at him, the threat of death giving you perfect reason to do as he wants. Reminding you to just how utterly powerless you are against him._

_"This is all just a game." Though you're the snake in this snake charmer analogy, Flowey's movements are the ones that're serpentine as he spells it out for you. "If you leave the Underground satisfied, you'll 'win' the game. If you 'win', you won't want to 'play' with me anymore. And what would I do then?"_

_The vine against your neck presses deeper, not to 'charm' you into movement, but to remind you how easy it'd be for him to, say, slit your throat._

_"But this game between us will never end. I'll hold victory in front of you, just within your reach..." The vine jabs deeper. You feel it break the skin and draw blood. "And then tear it away just before you grasp it. Over, and over, and over..."_

_Too cruel. Just too cruel..._

_"Listen."_

_The vine suddenly retracts. You release the breath you were unwarily holding. You make sure not to look away from Flowey; best not give him incentive to force your undivided attention again. That's easy enough; he's once again brought his face insanely close to yours. So close you can feel his breath, smell his floral scent, see his ever changing expressions of smugness, victory, sadistic glee._

_"If you_ do _defeat me, I'll give you your 'happy ending'. I'll bring your friends back. I'll destroy the barrier. Everyone will finally be satisfied."_

_You stiffen in surprise. He...He will?_

_"But that_ won't _happen."_

_No. Of course he won't. How stupid you feel to hope for that._

_"I'll keep you here no matter what!"_

_He pulls away. You finally have a moment to catch your breath._

_Plethoras of vines ensnare your arms, restraining you, trapping you, and you become surrounded by a ring of 'friendliness pellets'._

_"E v e n   i f   i t   m e a n s   k i l l i n g   y o u   1 , 0 0 0 , 0 0 0   t i m e s ! ! !"_

_His maniacal cackles fill the room as the first wave of pellets hone in. The pain is immediate the moment they make contact. You lose feeling in your legs._

_Why...?_

_Why must it be this way?_

_HP: 13/20_

_The second wave comes. His cackles continue. You lose feeling in your arms._

_No one was supposed to die this time. No one was supposed to get hurt this time._

_Why must life be so unfairly cruel??_

_HP: 06/20_

_The third. More cackling. You drop to your knees._

_Was he right? Did you really only manipulate them into caring about you? Trick them into this trap just by trying to be friendly? Did you force this suffering upon them?_

_Did you ever even really...love them?_

_HP: 01/20_

_You were wrong. You were so stupidly, incredibly wrong. You can't change things. You can never change anything._

_...No. That's not_ entirely _true. You did change_ one _thing._

_Now..._ everyone _is going to see you d-_

_"What?"_

_Kept in an upright slump by your restraints, you had been waiting in despair for the fourth and final wave to bring the end. It did not come. As confused as Flowey sounds, you find the minimal strength and will to raise your head._

_And you do so in time to see the last remnants of the warm, familiar ring of magical fire that repelled the deadly pellets._

_...?_

_"Do not be afraid, my child..."_

_The voice, soft and restrained, cloaking its owner's pain, gives you the will to turn your head up further. To look upon the hanging, ensnared bodies above you. To see the kind, loving face of Toriel smiling down upon you._

_"No matter what happens," she continues. "We will always be there to protect you!"_

_You feel yourself go slack, but for a whole different reason this time. A much better reason. Though in dire peril, though in pain, she had summoned power not to try to free herself...but to protect you?_ M-Mom...

_HP: 02/20_

_A sound like machine-gun fire snaps your attention to the two lines of pellets appearing on your left and right. They come rushing for your neck with guillotine swiftness. They are repelled by a thick white bone and a shimmering aqua spear._

_"THAT'S RIGHT, HUMAN!" You look up at the sound of Papyrus' voice, see him smiling triumphantly despite the creases of strain on his face. "YOU CAN WIN!! JUST DO WHAT I, WOULD DO... BELIEVE IN YOU!!!"_

_Him, too? He's placing your safety above his own?_ P-Papyrus...!

_HP: 03/20_

_"Hey! Human!" You turn now to Undyne, who's struggling the most against her bonds and smiling broadly. "If you got past ME, you can do ANYTHING! So don't worry! We're with you all the way!"_

_E...Even her?_ Undyne..!

_HP: 04/20_

_"huh? you haven't beaten this guy yet?" To Sans you look next, and though he's always been a smiler, his grin is reaching his eyes this time. "come on, this weirdo's got nothin' on you."_

_Even him!_ Sans!

_HP: 05/20_

_More machine-gun fire. More guillotine-swift pellets. Repelled by orbs of fire and bolts of electricity._

_"Technically, it's impossible for you to beat him..." You turn swiftly to Alphys, who's smiling through the pain. "B-But, somehow, I know you can do it!!"_

Alphys!

_HP: 06/20_

_"Human," Asgore's deep, rumbling voice calls to you, making you turn your head so quickly your hair whips against your face to see his kind, smiling face looking down upon you. "For the future of humans and monsters...! You have to stay determined...!"_

Asgore!

_HP: 07/20_

_"We're with you too!"_

_"C'mon, you go this!"_

_"La la la la!"_

_"You've GOT to win!"_

_"You can do it!"_

_"Ribbit."_

E-Everyone...

_HP: 20/20_

_You push yourself back to your feet. You shrug off your bonds as though they're nothing more than loose strings. You stand firmly against the doubts that held you back, against the creature that filled your heart with them, against fate._

_You feel everyone's hopes burning within you. You feel everyone's dreams giving you strength._

_You are filled with DETERRRRRRRMINNNNNNAAAT **Ț͞T̢̖̜̭̼̟͉T̷I̪̘̘͍I̼͍I̥̳̫̘̞̜I̛͙̪O̹͉̘͢O̖̙̣̣̲ͅO͝O҉o̜͔̦̪̜̙ͅo̸̯̭o̭͓͓̹̳̭̩o̠̪̞͙̥͇̳o͏̭o͏͖̬̣o̴̖̘̭̫óo̳̙̺o͏͙̩̰̻͎**_

 

 

_**\--i--.** _

 

_**\--n -o- h--- -e?** _

 

_**\--n -o- h--- m- -o---?** _

 

_**I- -o- --n, -h--e'- ---e--i-- -o- --s- k---.** _

 

_**Y--'r- r--ni-- --t o- -i--.** _

 

 

\----

> _writer's note: listening recommendation:<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VEt25YdaPpA>_

 

Fingers not uniformly bent, upper half hunched forward, head turned down, posture very rigid. Frisk's body was stiller than stone; not even their chest moved to allow for the exchanging of air in and out through their mouth.

A mouth which, at this moment, was sure as hell not theirs.

The cracked, empty-eyed, gleaming white 'mask' Frisk's face bore smiled unfathomably downwards, between where Frisk's upright, rigidly-postured body and Flowey's upright, tremulous body sat before each other. With their hair loosely tied back, it was easy to see that the 'mask's area of coverage ended just before it reached Frisk's ears, beneath their jawline, and past their chin. In the light cast by the monitors behind the couch, the 'mask's edges seemed faded, not solid; fuzzy, to say the least. Like a smudged outline, or an out-of-focus one.

Alphys' cameras only picked up visual feeds of the Underground. The monitors of the monolith were not equipped for relaying audio. So it was surprising - perhaps even mortifying - to hear a small hum of static surrounding where Frisk's body sat. As was it to see static choking the feed on the monitors behind where Frisk's body sat. Spread out across several screens, shaped into an outline conforming to the curve, position, and exact shape of Frisk's body.

Mute horror gripped all present. Every joint locked in place. Every eye and socket wide. Mouths hung open. Not even a breath taken.

Every ounce of attention brutally captivated by the imposing 'mask' Frisk had donned.

Alphys' keyboard fell from her hands, and clattered loudly onto the floor. 'Frisk' finally showed signs of life.

Frisk's head slowly lifted. The 'mask's vastly empty, black hole-like eyes stared directly ahead, taking in everything yet nothing all at once. Frisk's head then slowly turned monitor-ward.

Mirrored upon the static-garbled screen, the 'mask' stared at its reflected likeness silently. The static appeared to move as Frisk's body did, following their every action, like a shadow, as was apparent when their head lifted and turned. It became even more apparent as Frisk's head tilted to the left, and the static followed. Then Frisk's head tilted to the right. The static followed. Frisk's head returned to its first position. As did the static. All became still and quiet, save for the static's small hum.

The audible static sharply rose and fell in pitch. The visual static sharply expanded and contracted. Four small, consecutive, synchronized bursts. Then both returned to 'normal'.

"......FRISK?"

The initial shock had finally worn off, at least for Papyrus. He ventured hopefully on the notion that Frisk could hear him. That hearing their name would rouse them. That hearing his voice would reward him a reaction.

No response came from the one he called for.

"...kiddo?" Sans hoarsely ventured next.

No response.

"Hey, Frisk?" Undyne called.

No response. None at all. The worst was beginning to be feared.

".........Chara?"

Asgore was the one that ventured down this avenue of possibility. He did so with hints of, ironically, hope in his voice.

No response.

Toriel followed her former husband down this avenue. She took a hesitant step in the direction of the couch. "Is...Is it you? M-My chi-"

" _Not. Chara._ "

Halted in her hesitant advance, Toriel looked to Flowey, as did the other monsters gathered. Shock gripped them to hear him make this claim, to hear him sound so absolutely sure of himself, to hear his voice sound so betrayed and outraged, to see him look so betrayed and outraged, too.

"You're...You're _NOT. Chara!_ " The betrayal and outrage persisted as Flowey screeched, " _Who are you?!!_ "

Finally, a response. Frisk's head turned forward and down. The 'mask' faced the space down between Frisk and Flowey.

"Hey!! I'm talking to you!!" Flowey snapped, his lips curled back into an angry snarl that exposed sharp, fang-like teeth. "Answer the damn question!!"

The 'mask's eyes pointed directly at Frisk's hands. It was impossible to read an expression or emotion off that unfathomably-smiling face.

"Are you _deaf_ or something?!" It was clear that 'Frisk's disinterest in him was getting to Flowey, who was now trying to make himself look bigger and more menacing. "Answer me you-you _impostor_!!"

Frisk's hands started to clench, one not-uniformly bent finger at a ti-

" _Stop ignoring me!!!_ "

The vine that burst forth from the soil gathered in Flowey's pot struck across the 'mask's cheek in a flash of green. Flowey felt it make contact with flesh. It made a noise like a cracking whip as it hit its mark. Frisk's head turned so sharply there was a muffled 'crack' as joints in their neck popped.

The audible static seemed to lessen.

The attack had happened too fast for any of the others gathered could voice whether or not it was a good idea, much less stop it from happening in the first place. Already stiff with shock before, the six became stiller than stone at Flowey's act of frustration. Or perhaps it was an act of trying to rouse Frisk.

Whichever it was, Flowey's expression sure didn't give his intentions away. Glowering darkly, the vine still raised, he had eyes only for the being in front of him, whose hair had been loosed from its ponytail because of his outburst and now obscured their face from his point of view. Save for the static, a tense silence passed.

It was ended when Frisk's head slowly - so, so slowly - turned forward, the joints in their neck creaking mutely. The 'mask' was still present. Its eyes met Flowey's. Frisk's body became very still.

The audible static grew in volume.

"Finally got your attention, huh?" Flowey boasted, though with the way his vine subtly trembled as he retracted it back into his pot, he probably wasn't as confident as he sounded. "So you gonna answer me now, _impostor_?"

No reaction, save for the waxing din of static.

If only by a notch, Flowey's glower lessened. "...What? You're not gonna say anything? You're just gonna keep sitting there, grinning like a _moron_ , and giving us headaches with all this static? Or maybe you just need more...incentive?"

The threat did not come out as strongly as he was aiming for it to be. The one before him remained completely unperturbed. The static grew louder.

Flowey unwarily swallowed. "Ohh, I get it; you're trying to intimidate me! Ha! You think you're _soooo_ scary, don't'cha? Well joke's on you! I'm not scared of you! I'm not scared of anything!! I'm not- n-not a...afraid..."

But the flower was trembling. And those trembles increased as the buzz of static became a wail. The 'mask's vastly empty eyes continued boring into his.

Beads of sweat formed on the flower's face, slid down his sagged petals, and fell like rain into his pot. "Frisk!! Y-You gotta wake up!!" he yelled over the static. "You're still in there, right?! You can hear me, right?!! Remember what I said!! You gotta get angry and fight back!! Don't let this impostor have their way with you!! Wake up, Frisk!! Wake UP!! Wake up wake up wake up wake u-!!"

He did not stop yelling. He did not stop quaking. He did not stop calling their name.

Not until it became apparent that the brick wall of a person before him was not as unperturbed as previously believed. Whose reaction came in the form of Frisk's arm raising their hand to their obscured face, one rigidly straightened finger positioned directly in front of the 'mask's unfathomable smile.

Hush now.

Don't wake the child.

The static was deafening. Frisk's hand moved away from the 'mask'. The way it clenched made their fingers look like claws.

It slowly extended towards Flowey.

The flower claimed before that, being a soulless being, he only had the capacity to care about two things: himself, and what directly affects him. These two things could be combined under one moniker: self-preservation. An instinctual, primal intuition all living creatures fundamentally share. When the weirdness started back in the Underground, that instinct urged him to seek out one smart enough to figure out and fix whatever it was. It made him fear for his survival. He had experienced other instances of this instinct flaring up, urging him to do things he otherwise wouldn't do, striking fear into his core.

As far as he could remember, never once before had he been so utterly afraid for his life than to see this hand reaching for him.

His body froze. His breaths stopped. Unspeakable fear struck him to his very core. The hand kept coming closer-

" _GET AWAY FROM ME!!!_ "

-then dropped with a soft 'thud' onto the notebook laying between the two of them.

Flowey instantly snapped his mouth shut. He remained statue stiff. He dared not move or even take a breath again. Not until the 'mask' finally found interest in something other than himself, Frisk's head turning down so the 'mask' had vastly empty eyes only for what Frisk's palm now laid against.

Flowey visibly, somewhat forcibly, relaxed. He swallowed back the discomfort and fear that had manifested in him, that had gripped him so tightly, that had made his voice crack when he screamed like some bed-wetting baby crying for their mommy. He was better than that. He was above that. Above letting useless emotions making him look needy, helpless, _weak_. Even emotions spawned from his determination to live were beneath him. He didn't need them. He needed to feel in charge, in power, in control of the situation, whatever it may be. He was going to stay in charge.

And he was going to make damn well sure he would _never_ show such vulnerability ever again.

His face set like stone, expression fiercely resolute. He turned his gaze, decisively settling it on the small audience gathered a good distance away. He said nothing, letting the look he gave them say what was left unspoken: I'll keep them occupied, keep an eye on them; hurry up and do whatever you have to do to fix this.

He looked away, refocused his attentions on the 'mask'-wearer sitting before him, ignoring the twinge of annoyance that came from seeing them slowly flipping through the notebook, empty eyes intruding upon the privacy of his written conversation with Frisk.

As well as ignoring the small, aching tug of hope that the others would hurry.

 

 

\----

A long under-used, blood-red trident.

An often used, smoldering orb of flame.

Claws sparkling with electricity, magic so long unused it felt foreign.

Hand clenching shimmering aqua, magic so long mastered it felt welcome.

A thick white bone.

A burning blue eye.

All were willed into being at what sounded like a child screaming in fear. Their owners, overcome by a surge of will to defend and protect, had each moved to act out on that will. Each had only moved varying degrees of a single step forward before resisting that will. Logic and realization froze them in place, suppressed that will. There was no immediate danger. That much became apparent.

What completely suppressed the protective wills was a cold realization: Had they really been prepared to attack Frisk? To protect _Flowey_?

Their magic was not willed away all at once. None of it was willed away, in fact, until the one they were preparing to protect looked to them in solemnity, confirming he was okay, that he didn't need help (theirs or anyone else's). One by one, magical attacks dissipated, stances relaxed, but unease and a lingering air of dread persisted around the group of monsters that had watched these events unfold.

...

......

.........

"...What now?"

Asgore's inquiry brought with it a cold realization. It had been one thing to speculate about whether or not it was happening, to run tests that had the possibility of determining if it was or not. But now...it was very cruelly apparent that, when push came to shove, every one of them were all entirely unequipped and inexperienced to handle this turn of events.

Well...perhaps not _every_ one of them.

A short skeleton found himself, once again, being thrown into sudden limelight as every eye and socket gathered near him fell on him. Stage fright did not grip him so thoroughly this time around. He carefully, one at a time, took in each of their hesitant, inquisitive, desperate expressions. His dim white pupils then rested solely on the seated, 'mask'-wearing individual (who was now slowly flipping through the notebook before them) that he and the others had almost attacked, and wondered if those instincts should've been fully acted upon.

Sans never claimed to have a perfect knowledge of the resets. Of the varying timelines spawned from them. Timelines governed through the decisions and choices the determination-filled soul inside Frisk made. Hell, he was never even positive that it _was_ their determination-filled soul that was the source of the resets until he was within a long, golden corridor, facing down the dirty brother killer at the other end. And he certainly didn't know then that there was more than one consciousness inside that dust-coated body; not until he caught the _real_ dirty brother killer red-handed long afterwards.

Maybe it was because it was once human that made it easy for the invading consciousness to mask their presence during Frisk's times in the Underground. Made it easy to hide the fact that the parasite was slowly killing its host's consciousness in order to take their soul for its own. It was slow work. It was tedious work. It was patient work. All so that no suspicions would be raised that there was, in fact, something very very bad happening to the host. Chara's possession of Frisk was meticulously, intricately subtle.

No such subtlety existed here.

Now that it was cruelly apparent another possession was taking place.

"...until they make their intentions clear, we have to treat this 'impostor' as nothing less than a threat. to us, to flowey, and especially to frisk."

He spoke lowly, dryly, solemnly, emotionlessly. There were also traces of hesitance laced into his words, and not just because of the implications his words made. The others were looking to him for direction, and he was not one accustomed to giving it. He was no leader. No king ruling over a kingdom. No general commanding an army. He was just one monster; the only reason others were soliciting him for instruction now was because of the knowledge he held. That's all. He was not one for giving orders, just relaying information. He was, just as with the others, ill-equipped for the task this turn of events burdened him with.

But he made a promise. Two, actually. But only one of them was one he truly intended on wanting to keep.

Sans, a leader.

What a punchline that sounds like.

"Must we resort to that so quickly?" Toriel asked.

Sans sighed patiently. "tori, the last time this happened-"

"I do not need you to enlighten me about 'the last time'," Toriel interjected, her tone firm yet not unkind. "While 'last time' is an epoch I know none of us have any hopes of ever truly remembering, I understand that it was not...pleasant for anyone."

Sans chuckled darkly. "yeah. not _pleasant_ at all."

Toriel shivered at her own implication. "But you'll agree with me that 'last time' and _this_ time are different, yes? I mean-" She cast a hesitant glance couch-ward. "-they do seem rather...innocuous-"

"that's the _point_ , tori." He gave her a sharp, hardened look that was also indescribably weary. "they make you think they're harmless. they lull you into complacency. and just when you start to believe they're not gonna try anything, that they're not gonna, say, start swinging a knife around..."

Sans said no more. His pupils blacked out and his skull turned to the floor. Though it was hard to tell without his pupils giving direction, it looked as though he cast a forlorn glance at his brother.

Toriel saw this, and felt her soul ache. "Sans..."

"CAN WE NOT JUST... _ASK_ THEM WHAT THEIR INTENTIONS ARE?" Papyrus suggested.

"I already _tried_ that, _genius_!"

"YOU WERE BEING RATHER RUDE WHEN SPEAKING TO THEM BEFORE, FLOWEY," Papyrus chastised. "PERHAPS IF YOU WERE TO ASK A LITTLE MORE NICELY, YOU'LL RECEIVE A MUCH BETTER RESPONSE."

Flowey's eyes never strayed from the being in front of him. His expression turned stony, and he shook his head. "No way I'm talking to this _thing_ anymore."

"VERY WELL. THEN I SHALL." Papyrus turned toward the couch, grinning cordially. "GREETINGS, MYSTERIOUS POSSESSOR! WOULD IT BE AT ALL TROUBLESOME IF YOU COULD ENLIGHTEN US TO YOUR INTENTIONS WITH-"

"Hold it, Papyrus."

Papyrus had barely made any headway toward the couch when Undyne caught him by the arm. "Sans is right," she admitted, sounding somewhat begrudged. "This 'impostor' is a threat. No way anyone's going anywhere near them."

Papyrus looked ready to argue, but Undyne's fierce glower silenced any objections. "...THEN, BY THAT LOGIC, SHOULD WE NOT REMOVE FLOWEY FROM THEIR PRESENCE? IT'S ONLY RIGHT."

Flowey didn't even twitch at the mention of his name. Much less give any indication that he wanted what Papyrus reasoned.

Undyne's face momentarily wrinkled as though she just smelled something foul. "Fine," she sourly agreed. "We'll move him. But." She let go of Papyrus' arm, positioned herself, then willed a shimmering aqua spear into her fist. "Not before making sure _they_ keep Frisk's hands to themself."

No one voiced any objection before Undyne, her concentration fixated on the 'masked' individual still flipping through the notebook, swung her arm forward in a tight arc.

There was no apparent change to Frisk's body.

"...The hell?" Undyne concentrated, and swung again.

There was no apparent change.

"What the hell?" She tried it again.

No apparent change.

"What the actual _hell_??" She tried again.

No change.

The hand holding her spear subtly trembled, though out of rage or nervousness, it was hard to say. "This should be working," she stated, her voice a low growl. "Why the hell isn't this working???"

The others knew of the effects Undyne's green magic had on someone. Frisk's body should've been completely un-moving the moment the tip of her spear first passed over them. Yet, they remained completely unperturbed, their hands continuing to turn through the notebook as if nothing mattered more than this idle task. Her magic had found no purchase.

A theory sparked in Sans' head. His feet dragging a bit as he stepped forward, he raised his arm and concentrated his blue magic couch-ward.

No change could be seen. No purchase could be found. The pages kept turning.

Sans' arm lowered stiffly back to his side. "'s just like before," he muttered more to himself than to the group. "i can't keep a grip. can't even _find_ one. not even on...their soul..."

Sans felt both stiff and limp as a horrid possibility crossed his mind. "it's like it's not even there anymore. and if it's not there, then..."

He need not finish the thought. Everyone's expressions showed that the same possibility had crossed their thoughts.

"...No. Frisk is still there," Asgore claimed in grim confidence. "They must be. Do you not see how stiffly their body is moving?"

'Stiffly' would be putting it lightly. Frisk's body moved like an automaton a thousand years late for its next oiling. As if it took significant thought and will to make each joint move. Or as if there was resistance.

"Frisk must still be in there," Asgore persisted, "resisting, _fighting_ against whoever- _what_ ever this is. We have to believe that. We have to..."

Sans almost said something, but stopped himself. Yes, they _had_ to hold onto the hope that Frisk hadn't been completely overtaken by the impostor, but holding onto hope could only go so far. They still had to discern who or what the impostor was, and what it wanted. And finally making itself known to them wasn't proving to be all that helpful. The impostor was being very coy and aloof, both in general and with what its purpose was in showing itself now; for possessing Frisk in the first place, in fact. All it was doing was making Frisk turn through the pages of the notebook; was it looking for something? Was it going to make Frisk write something down?

And what then? What would happen once the impostor made its intentions clear? Would this invader prove itself to be a benign entity? Or was it to be one far more insidious? That possibility seemed far more likely; what kind of benign entity holds someone captive within their own body and wears it like a suit?

And if that were the case, if this being turned out to be an unscrupulous, hostile presence, if the other promise he made had to be fulfilled...

The sound of scraping metal made his train of thought jump tracks. He looked to find Alphys back at her computer desk, digging fervidly through the drawer she earlier fished out electronic paraphernalia. The sounds of rummaging did not persist for very long before she found what she needed. Another cord, by the look of it. The others took notice of her actions. "Alphys what're you-"

She took a deep, noisy inhale through her nostrils, turned, and walked toward the couch.

"alph, wait!" But she was already there. She could really move when she put the effort into it. Her destination had not been the couch, specifically, but rather the machine positioned beside it. She worked quickly once she got there, but perhaps that wasn't the wisest way to go about it; she had been nonstop trembling head to tail since even before she completed the short trip from the desk to the machine, and it was unclear whether it was only because of fear, or also the great sense of urgency coupled with it. Either way, she fumbled greatly with the controls, with trying to get the cord into the jack as well. She barely made a sound outside of the squeaky, hyperventilating breaths she took.

That is, until she finally succeeded in plugging the cord into its jack, then tripped over her feet and fell onto her front with a squeaky 'eep!'

She landed on the floor directly in front of where Frisk's body sat on the couch.

She became still as rock.

A curious sensation had been experienced the instant she and the others had been alerted to the 'impostor's presence. Perhaps they had felt it even a little while before, when the 'impostor' first revealed itself. Being in such close proximity to the source of this sensation only intensified its effect. The sensation couldn't be placed at first, but now that she was so close to its origin, she recognized the oppressive atmosphere that was concentrated around Frisk's body.

The 'impostor' had attention only for the task it made Frisk's hands perform. The 'mask' had eyes only for the pages it made Frisk's hands turn.

It still felt like she was being watched.

"Babe, snap out of it!!"

It had not needed to be said that, since the moment the 'impostor's presence had been made clear to everyone, that they were to speak their discussions in hushed, conspiratorial tones. Undyne had broken this unspoken rule when she called for her wife. But even though Undyne was practically bellowing, in Alphys' ears, her beloved's voice sounded far away, muffled, like she was calling to her from behind a thick brick wall.

Alphys heard her nonetheless. And hearing her roused her from the trance-like state she had apparently fallen into the moment she fell. Blinking quickly, a shudder traveling along her spine that extended all the way to the tip of her tail, she scrambled backwards on her hands and knees a ways before getting back to her feet, and repeatedly stumbling over herself as she backed all the way into Undyne. Her line of sight was fixated on Frisk's body.

"Are you okay?" Undyne asked instantly, lines of worry creasing her face as her hands took Alphys' shoulders. "That thing didn't do anything to you, did it??"

Alphys gasped as though she'd just resurfaced from being held underwater for over an hour. She was trembling so much it was beginning to be feared that her body was going to shake itself apart. She turned drawn and pale under her scales. Her eyes were bulging, pupils dilated. Her gaze dared not stray from the 'mask' upon Frisk's face.

Helplessness crossed Undyne's features. She had never seen Alphys like this. So in shock and unresponsive; she didn't react in the slightest to Undyne's touch. "Babe..."

Toriel had wheeled around the chair at the computer desk unprompted. She caught Undyne's eye, who then wordlessly, effortlessly lifted her beloved, then gently lowered her onto the well-worn seat of the chair. Alphys continued to gasp breathlessly. She kept staring unblinkingly.

"...If it's all the same to you guys-" With a sharp heel turn, a spear in her hand and murder in her eye, Undyne faced the couch. "-I'm going to rip that face off their face now."

The former Captain of the Royal Guard stomped forward with enough force to leave indents in the shape of the soles of her boots in the floor.

"Undyne, wait-"

" _No_ , Asgore!" Undyne roared, but still stopped, if only to look back over her shoulder to glare at the former king. "It's past the time to go about reserving judgments; this thing's intentions are bad as bad gets!!"

"WE DON'T KNOW THAT-"

"Don't we, Papyrus!?" Her glare turned to him next. "Look what it did to Alphys! And that's just from being close to it! I don't even wanna _think_ about what it might be doing to _Frisk_ right now!! Sure, it looks like they're fighting it, but who can say how long that'll last! We need to get that whatever it is outta Frisk ASAP!!"

"We are not saying we disagree with you, Undyne," Toriel firmly interjected. "It is only that we believe you should act more reasonably. As you said, Dr. Alphys' current condition is the result of getting too close; what do you think will happen to you if you do the same?"

This made Undyne falter, if only for a split-second. "I'll be fine," she growled. "And by the looks of it, Flowey's just fine, too."

It hadn't been fully realized until Undyne made the observation. Even Flowey looked surprised. Thoughtful lines creased his face for a moment before a sly smirk replaced them. "Hee hee, that's only because I'm not _weak_ like Dr. Alphys over there, or the rest of you morons, for that matter! But don't let that stop you; I'm sure good ol' Undyne the Undying can handle it no problem!"

Fury boiled within Undyne at the insult, but confusion creased her facial features at the title. "Undyne the...the hell you talking about?"

"doesn't matter what he's talkin' about," Sans stated, his tone uncharacteristically forceful. "what _does_ matter is how we go about dealing with... _that_.” He gestured with a nod to where Frisk's body sat, whose hands continued turning through the notebook.

"...YOU COULD DO IT, SANS."

Sans furrowed a would be brow at his brother. "i could do what now?"

Realization dawned on Undyne's face as she figured out what Papyrus was getting at. "Yeah, you could!" She turned on the shorter skeleton. " _You_ could get that whatever-it-is outta Frisk!"

Realization smoothed Sans' face over. Then, almost instantly, his brow furrowed again.

"...no." He stared off to the side and stuck his hands in his pockets. "i couldn't."

Hope had flared at the notion Undyne implemented. It dwindled with Sans' refusal.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Asgore inquired, though the way he stared at him made it sound more like a demand.

"means what it means," Sans answered dryly. "i can't do it. simple as that."

Toriel had been staying near Alphys, ready to provide healing magic should the need arise. Now, she stepped toward Sans. "Sans, please. You are the one that did the...'removal' the last time this happened. Why can you not do the same this time?"

Sans chuckled joylessly. "heh. yeah. _last_ time. but this time and the last are completely different ball games." He glanced over at Toriel in a way that made his stare look almost accusatory. "that's more or less what you said, wasn't it?"

Toriel had seemed uncomfortable when she spoke of the 'removal'. Her discomfort persisted, and grew with this statement. She shrunk back, and refused to look anyone's way.

"Okay, _fine_ ," Undyne growled. "If you're going to be a stubborn, lazy ass about it, then I'll do it! Just tell me how you did it so we can send this 'impostor' packing!"

"you make it sound like it's _easy_." Sans' pupils darkened on the last note, as did his voice.

"WELL, IT CERTAINLY MUST BE, IF A LAZYBONES SUCH AS YOURSELF COULD DO IT, NYEH HEH HEH."

Sans knew Papyrus was trying to lift the mood and his spirits with this comment, and it probably would've worked in a different situation. But it certainly didn't for this one. "you're putting _way_ too much faith in me right now, pap."

"BY THE SOUND OF IT, THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT YOU NEED RIGHT NOW, BROTHER," Papyrus pressed.

Sans sighed. "papyrus, there's more to it than that-"

"THEN WOULD IT NOT BE PRUDENT FOR YOU TO ENLIGHTEN US TO WHAT MORE THERE IS?" Papyrus persisted.

Sans' hands clenched inside his pockets. "you really don't need to know-"

"IT IS APPARENT THAT WE DO," Papyrus insisted.

"bro, please, i'm beggin' here." Sans would not meet his brother's gaze, or anyone else's. "can't you just trust me when i say-"

"NO. NOT WITH THIS." Papyrus spoke sternly, yet without a hint of unkindness. "NOT WITH THE STAKES AS HIGH AS THEY ARE. I DO TRUST YOU, SANS, BUT YOU MUST UNDERSTAND OUR POSITION. EVERY PIECE OF INFORMATION WE GATHER, NO MATTER HOW SMALL, IS USEFUL IN ITS OWN WAY. AND YOUR REASON BEHIND WHY YOU CANNOT DO AS YOU HAVE DONE BEFORE TO REMOVE THIS, APPARENTLY, MALIGNANT PRESENCE FROM FRISK SOUNDS LIKE IT WOULD BE VERY IMPORTANT FOR THE REST OF US TO KNOW."

Sans didn't reply.

"BROTHER, PLEASE, I BESEECH YOU." Papyrus approached his brother, compassion and understanding in his grin. "YOU MADE FRISK A PROMISE. AND I KNOW HOW YOU FEEL ABOUT PROMISES, BUT I WOULD THINK THIS IS ONE YOU'D WANT TO PROPERLY-"

"i almost _killed_ them the last time, alright?"

Sans hadn't raised his voice, but his words still felt like a knife to the chest. Papyrus stumbled back a couple steps, his jaw hanging wide in speechless shock and horror.

Sans' shoulders sagged as though an invisible weight had been lowered onto them. That heavy weight was the looks of horror the others were giving him, as he was soon to learn when he finally looked to see their expressions, his own weathered and weary.

"...'open-soul surgery'. that's how i described it, yeah? heh, truth is that was a bit of an overstatement. 'surgery' implies a controlled environment, a well-practiced surgeon holding the scalpel, knowing exactly what you're doing and how to do it. there was none of that that night. none of that at all. but it still happened. i still did what i did. i _carved their soul up like a piece of meat_ that night in order to free 'em from 'them'."

He removed his hands from his pockets and held his palms forward, his entire demeanor turning apologetic. "frisk was half-frozen to death when i found them that night, and talked 'em out of doing what they had set out to do. i could've taken them straight home after that, but i didn't. i purposefully endangered them based on a _hunch_. it was by pure luck alone that my hunch turned out to be correct. and my 'removal' of 'them'? that was only possible because 'they' were weak and desperate and clinging around the edges instead of lodged somewhere deeper. and even then? if i hadn't been precise in removing 'them', if my hands hadn't been steady enough, if i hadn't been careful enough..."

He felt his shoulders slump even more, his arms hanging limply at his sides. His gaze turned toward the ground, his white pupils faintly quivering. "...one wrong move, one careless slip of a finger, and that'd be all it would've taken to kill the person i was trying to save. i got _lucky_ that didn't happen. once-in-a-lifetime lucky. i was being a bit hyperbolic earlier to say that i 'almost' killed them, but the truth of the matter remains: frisk could've _died_ that night. even if i didn't do what i did. ...but, c'mon, let's all be honest here."

He looked back up again, his pupils quivering like candle flames in his otherwise empty sockets. "isn't the reason why we're here now, doing what we're doing, proof that, if any one of you were in my shoes that night, you would've done the same?"

What any good friend would do in the situation. That's what he did that night. That's what he had to believe. That's what he had to tell himself to help him sleep at night. He had to believe the others, _any_ of the others, would've done what he did in order to save the world from another reset, to save themselves from losing their memories again, to save _Frisk_. He had to believe that, because what would be the alternative? To drown in guilt and despair that his actions that night could've held him personally responsible for another reset, and the probable eventuality of the complete devour and death of Frisk's consciousness?

The others would've done the same as he did that night; he _had_ to believe that. He had to...

Yet he expertly hid the over-bounding relief and gratitude that filled him to see the expressions of the monsters around him turn sober and reflective. That they were at _least_ considering it.

"...so yeah." His face wearing a calm and collected mask, Sans stuffed his hands back inside his pockets. "if it's all the same to you guys, i'd rather not be the one to take the risk again. 'specially since we still don't know exactly what we're dealing with this time around, or even _where_ it's hiding in frisk's soul."

"...'s wh-what I was t-trying to figure out."

The soft, shuddering, squeaky voice snapped the gathered monsters out of their thought-provocative trances. Undyne especially, who willed away her spear and immediately returned to her wife's side. "Are you alright??"

"I'm-I'm fine," Alphys hoarsely insisted, but still looked a little pale and fatigued as she shakily eased herself off of her chair, one hand clutching the fabric of her lab coat over her chest. "J-Just...g-got caught off guard."

Undyne seethed. "If that whatever-it-is hurt you-"

Alphys waved a hand dismissively. "I-It's not that it r-really 'hurt' me, persay; I j-just should've known b-better than to get too close to it."

Confusion began to abound. "What do you mean?" asked Asgore.

Alphys gave her chest a gentle rub and gestured with a nod to something in front of her. "Ch-Check out the scanner's screen. Look f-familiar?"

Check out the screen the others did. And it was only then that they realized that it was displaying nothing but pixilated monochrome snow where readouts of Frisk's soul should've been.

"It...It is just like with the monitor!" observed Toriel.

Alphys nodded. "Y-You remember h-how I described the atmosphere in the Core? W-Well, I d-didn't really recognize it until j-just a little while ago but, s-somehow...th-that same oppressive atmosphere building up in the Core i-is surrounding Frisk right now. And getting t-too close to it...this-" She gestured to herself, to her weakened state. "-is what h-happens."

The others stared at the scientist as their minds wrapped around her observations, and weaved together several previously-believed unconnected ideas and theories.

"Does that mean...the weirdness happening in Mt. Ebott and this...'impostor'; they are one and the same?"

Alphys finally managed to calm herself down, released the fabric around her chest, and nodded at Asgore. "If n-nothing else, they're definitely of the same origin."

"SO," mused Papyrus, "A WEIRDNESS-CAUSING ENTITY IS POSSESSING FRISK? OR THE WEIRDNESS _IS_ THE ENTITY POSSESSING FRISK??"

"Th-That's what I was trying to f-figure out," Alphys repeated. "I-If the 'impostor' and the weirdness are so fundamentally similar, th-then my algorithm _should_ work on the 'i-impostor'. I w-was trying to rework the scanner t-to allow for the algorithm to be used with it, th-then connected to my computer. B-But I slipped and...yeah..."

Alphys looked down, her expression daunted. The others followed her line of sight to find her staring at where the end of the cable she had dropped lying in coils near the scanner. To see what else it was near was when their expressions also became daunted.

"...Is the scanner ready to go?"

Alphys looked to Undyne. "Huh?"

"All those commands you put into it, so it can accept your algorithm; you don't need to do any more with that part, do you?"

Alphys blinked, then shook her head. "N-No. All that needs to happen now is to p-plug it into my computer, a-and run the program."

Undyne said nothing. The expression that appeared on her face was that of one prepared for war. She inhaled deeply.

Alphys realized what she was going to do. "B-Be careful," she urged as Undyne began her approach.

The first few strides were long and confident, but became slow and cautious the closer Undyne got. She was practically tiptoe-ing by the time the coils were within her reach. She inched closer, her eye dead set on the origin of the atmosphere of oppression Alphys described. She stooped down, glaring sharply at the 'mask' Frisk bore. She reached her hand forward, her fingers trembling.

With swift, careful movements, she yanked the cord away, uncoiling it as she made her swift return to where the others were gathered. And it was not until she put that fair distance between herself and where Frisk's body sat that she stopped, and allowed herself to stumble.

"ARE YOU ALRIGHT, UNDYNE?" Papyrus worriedly asked.

Undyne had her hands on her knees and was hunched forward. A thick coat of sweat glistened on her scales. Her breaths were heavy and uneven. She looked as though she had just run a marathon through Hotland while wearing a full suit of armor, like she would collapse at any moment. Still, she gave Papyrus a wide, albeit shaky, grin. "F-Fit as a fiddle, Papyrus."

Papyrus, and everyone else for that matter, looked unconvinced. Undyne, with a forceful grunt, straightened herself in order to prove her point. "Just...yeah. Th-Thanks for making sure I didn't go near 'em before." She looked to Alphys, grinning through the sweat rolling down her face. "You weren't k-kidding about that oppressive atmosphere stuff, babe. It's really inc-credible you were able to stay anywhere near it for as long as you did."

Alphys blushed. "Th-Thank you."

Undyne's hand was still shaking as she offered the rest of the cable to her beloved. Alphys took it, then took a moment to adjust her glasses before crossing over to her computer desk. "Okay. N-Now all I have to do is plug this in, apply the algorithm, then we should g-get a better picture of what's going on with Frisk's soul, i-if not finally understand who or what is p-possessing them!"

"Dr. Alphys?"

The end of the cord in Alphys' hand hovered just beside the jack. She looked back over her shoulder. "Y-Yes?"

With hands wringing in front of her chest, eyes pointed a different direction from the one she addressed, Toriel asked, "This will be... _safe_ , right?"

Perhaps, if Sans had not come clean about the finer, darker details of what he had done 'that night', Toriel would not have asked this. Perhaps she, and the others, would not have become even more worried for her child's well-being. Perhaps it would not have been brought into question the, now glaringly apparent, dangerous risks permeating the procedure Alphys was going to begin. That permeated every aspect of what they were all doing there tonight.

Heavy felt the weight of realization that fell upon Alphys. Her muscles went slack under it. Her expression turned vacant. She stared unblinkingly at empty space. She became very still and quiet.

"...I explained the risks to them long before I began the scan," she said very monotonously. "Long before they were even hooked up to the scanner, even. They told me they didn't care. That they were only concerned about what they might do if the possessor turned out to be a malignant presence. They told me...they didn't want anyone to get hurt because of them again."

Alphys straightened herself. "Frisk was lucid and in control when they gave me their consent. Now that they're currently unavailable to take it back..."

She turned her head to look at the others over her shoulders, to show them the grievous, yet resolute expression on her face. "You know I have no choice."

The others stared at one another in helpless horror. Eventually, one by one, heartbroken acceptance washed over them. Alphys turned back to her computer.

"Whatever it takes." Tears trickling from her eyes, she plugged the cord in. "Right, Frisk?"

 

 

\----

Had anyone been looking toward the couch when talk about 'removal' and 'last time' made the rounds, they would've noticed a flower perking up, turning toward them, and bristling as he listened in.

Had anyone been keeping attention to the possessed being at that time, they would've seen it make hands stop turning pages, stopping on one that was perfectly blank, then making one hand grasp a nearby pen.

Had anyone been paying more attention to the possessed being's hands instead of the 'mask' it wore, they would've heard the sound the pen made as it scratched against the notebook paper, seen the nonsensical characters being written out onto the page, seen the struggle the hand had with coordination.

But no. No one was aware of these events.

Not until the words 'You know I have no choice' were issued.

The first thing Flowey noticed was that the audible static lessened so much it was almost gone. He looked back to where Frisk's body sat across from him, and saw how very still it had become. Then he noticed that the visual static on the screens behind them had become very still, too. Frozen, like an old computer running too many programs at once. Flowey had time only to arch a brow of intrigue.

Then the audible static pitched into a whine. The visual static quickened into a frenzy. Frisk's body lurched forward, then all their frantic movements were focused into their arm.

Flowey recoiled in surprise at this sudden change. If he didn't know better, it looked as though the 'impostor' was panicking. His attention was seized by the pen in Frisk's hand, which was forcing its tip across the page so much the paper ripped beneath it. The movements the pen made across the paper seemed erratic at first, then he saw that the hand was moving in two distinct strokes:

A three-lined zigzag, then a circle.

A three-lined zigzag, then a circle.

A three-lined zigzag, then a circle.

Over and over, clustered together, each stroke was made right on top of the other. The spot the pen was forced across the paper was turning quite dark with ink. Whatever message the 'impostor' was trying to relay was being blotted out.

"Whatever it takes."

Flowey recognized the forms the three-lined zigzag and circle were making.

"Right, Frisk?"

Flowey realized what was trying to be conveyed. "W-Wait-!"

Realization came to him too late. His warning was issued too late.

Alphys had already entered the command.

Even though the 'impostor' made it very clear its thoughts about it in the form of two letters:

** _NO_ **


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to how long this chapter ended up being, it's be split into three parts, and is finally completed. (hallelujah.)

**Part I**

 

_"whew. can't believe we're finally finished unpacking."_

_"IT ONLY TOOK US SO LONG TO FINISH UNPACKING BECAUSE OF YOUR INSISTENT BOONDOGGLING! IF NOT FOR THE HUMAN-I MEAN FRISK'S PERSISTENCE, IT WOULD HAVE TAKEN SEVERAL MORE MONTHS JUST FOR YOU TO EVEN_ LOOK _INSIDE ONE OF YOUR BOXES!"_

 _Sans paused for a moment, then shrugged. "eh. that sounds about right." A grin on his face, he winked at the child on the sofa. "thanks for givin' me that extra boost of motivation, kiddo. high time i stopped..._ bone _doggling, amiright?"_

_Papyrus groaned loudly and rolled his sockets._

_Frisk was still and silent._

_Sans stared a moment, then turned and walked toward the stairs. "welp, all this hard work's got me_ bone _tired, so imma turn in for the night." Not looking back, he waved from the second floor landing. "'night, bro, frisk. see ya in the morning."_

_"GOOD NIGHT, BROTHER!" Papyrus replied with an enthusiastic, full-armed wave._

_Frisk was still and silent._

_The sound of Sans' bedroom door shutting with a click was faintly heard. Papyrus turned toward the couch and gave Frisk a big grin. "REALLY, I CANNOT PROPERLY EXPRESS MY THANKS FOR YOUR ASSISTANCE IN CONVINCING MY LAZYBONES BROTHER INTO FINALLY SETTLING INTO THIS LOVELY NEW HOME OF OURS, HU- FRISK. IT HAS BEEN A GREAT DISPLAY OF YOUR AMBASSADOR SKILLS, HASN'T IT? NYEH HEH HEH HEH!"_

_Frisk was still and silent._

_Papyrus stretched his arms over his head briefly before proudly planting his fists on his pelvis. "MY GOODNESS, IT FEELS LIKE ONLY YESTERDAY WE WERE ALL STANDING TOGETHER IN THE LIGHT OF THE SETTING SUN, AND ASGORE ASKED YOU TO TAKE UP THIS IMPORTANT ROLE. AND YOU HAVE SINCE PROVED THAT YOU HAVE BEEN PERFECT FOR IT! AS HAVE I BEEN PERFECT IN THE ROLE OF MASCOT! NYEHEHEHEHEHEH!"_

_Frisk was still and silent. However, the slightest of fidgets betrayed their platitudinous behavior._

_Papyrus noticed immediately. "HMM?" He leaned in close to Frisk's face. "COULD IT BE THAT YOU DO NOT AGREE WITH ME ON THIS?"_

_Frisk was still and silent. They would not look Papyrus in the eye._

_Papyrus frowned at this. He rubbed one gloved hand to his chin, his stare becoming studious. "NO. THAT IS NOT WHAT IS BOTHERING YOU," he claimed in confidence after a while. "THAT IS NOT WHAT YOUR FACE IS TELLING ME. YOUR FACE IS TELLING ME...THAT YOU ARE STILL UPSET ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED DURING THE SURVEY OF THE UNDERGROUND!"_

_There was no change to Frisk's demeanor. Papyrus was convinced his assumption was correct._

_He 'NYEH'-ed proudly to himself as he straightened his posture. "I UNDERSTAND COMPLETELY THAT IT IS QUITE UPSETTING OUR MUTUAL FRIEND REFUSED TO COME TO THE SURFACE," he assured as he patted the top of Frisk's head in a friendly gesture. "HOWEVER! DO NOT BE TOO UPSET, FRISK! YOU LEFT YOUR OFFER OPEN! SO THAT MEANS THERE'S STILL A CHANCE HE WILL CHANGE HIS MIND! AND I WILL ENLIGHTEN YOU TO FURTHER PROOF THAT THERE'S A VERY HIGH PROBABILITY OF THAT HAPPENING! FOR AS LONG AS I'VE KNOWN OUR MUTUAL FRIEND, HE WAS NEVER REALLY THE TYPE TO IMMEDIATELY BE ON-BOARD WITH ADVENTURES I'D INVITE HIM ON! IT TOOK A FEW ROUNDS OF FRIENDLY ARGUING TO CONVINCE HIM! SO HERE IS WHAT I SUGGEST YOU DO! JUST GIVE HIM SOME TIME TO FULLY CONTEMPLATE YOUR OFFER, THEN RETURN TO SEE IF HIS STANCE HAS CHANGED! A FEW WEEKS SHOULD BE LONG ENOUGH! THAT'S USUALLY THE AMOUNT OF TIME I'D HAVE TO WAIT FOR HIS MIND TO-"_

_"Does Sans hate me?"_

_Papyrus' hand atop Frisk's head stiffened. So had the arm attached to that hand, and the rest of his body. His sockets became very wide. Everything was quiet for a spell._

_"...WH...WHAT?" His movements were stiff as he turned his skull to stare, still wide-eyed, at the person beneath his hand. "DOES SANS..._ WHAT _?"_

_He hadn't been sure he properly heard what Frisk had said; he wasn't even so sure they had spoken at all, if he was being honest with himself. And Frisk certainly wasn't making it easy to determine which was the truth. They were as still and silent as before he heard what he heard, or what he thought he heard._

_No. Wait. That wasn't right. Looking more closely, he could see that they were not precisely as they were before. Their shoulders had very subtly tensed, and their mouth had formed the beginnings of a grimace._

_His hand twitched as he pulled it back. He had not imagined their words, nor had he misheard them._

_Several seconds were wasted in gaping shock before Papyrus recovered. "WH-WHY THAT...THAT IS ABSURD! THAT IS THE MOST ABSURD THOUGHT I HAVE EVER HEARD IN MY ENTIRE LIFE! NOT TO MENTION VERY SILLY AND COMPLETELY UNTRUE!! MY BROTHER HAS WASTED SEVERAL OF OUR FIRST MONTHS ON THE SURFACE_ JUST _TO UNPACK A FEW BOXES! THE VERY IDEA THAT SOMEONE AS LAZY AS HIM HAS THE CAPACITY TO...AHEM..._ STRONGLY DISLIKE _ANYONE IS PERHAPS THE FUNNIEST JOKE I HAVE EVER HEARD! NYEH HEH HEH HEH HEH! HEH! HEH. ...HEH..."_

_He expected laughter to join with his own, and was stupefied into silence when he found himself laughing alone. Everything became quiet again._

_He felt sweat form along his brow. He awkwardly tugged at his scarf, feeling a little toasty underneath it. "I, ERM...I APOLOGIZE. I SHOULD NOT HAVE LAUGHED. BUT, SURELY, YOU CAN SEE HOW I CAN FIND HUMOR IN SUCH A NOTION, CAN'T YOU? I HAVE IT ON GOOD AUTHORITY THAT SANS CARES ABOUT YOU A GREAT DEAL! WHY, WHEN WE ALL CAME TO AFTER THE BARRIER WAS DESTROYED, AND WE SAW YOU LYING UNCONSCIOUS ON THE GROUND, SANS WAS SECOND ONLY TO THE QUEEN WHEN WE ALL RACED TO YOUR SIDE! DOES THAT SOUND LIKE SOMETHING SOMEONE WHO HARBORS STRONG FEELINGS OF..._ RESENTMENT _TOWARD YOU WOULD DO?"_

_Hopeful reassurance was in the grin he gave the seated human. That slowly drained away at the sight of their more-noticeably tensed shoulders and the more profound grimace on their down-turned face._

_Papyrus opened his mouth to say something, found himself at a rare loss, and closed it shut. His teeth made a soft click. He found himself staring off to the side as he wrung his hands in front of him. The silence that persisted afterwards felt heavy and thick. Not to mention terribly tense and awkward._

_Eventually, the silence ended when Papyrus, hands still clasped together in front of him, closed the small distance between where he stood and the sofa, then sat himself down on the cushion directly beside where Frisk was seated._

_"...WE ALL HAVE OUR SECRETS," he began, his voice uncharacteristically sober and serious. "AND YOUR EXPRESSION AND SILENCE ARE TELLING ME THAT THE ONE YOU HARBOR IS THE BASIS FOR THIS BELIEF. I WILL NOT FORCE YOU TO TALK ABOUT ANYTHING YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH SHARING, BUT..."_

_He turned his skull to his left, grave seriousness in the beseeching look he gave the person beside him. "YOU MUST UNDERSTAND THAT THIS IS A VERY SERIOUS ACCUSATION, FRISK. MY BROTHER? HATE_ YOU _? WHAT ON EARTH COULD POSSIBLY POSSESS YOU TO BELIEVE SUCH A...NOTION?"_

_He had almost called the notion 'outlandish', but stopped himself. Previously calling it absurd and a hilarious joke had the opposite effect of what he was going for, after all. Being straightforward and addressing the problem head on had always been his style, as well. He hoped now that this approach had better chances of coaxing something more than silence out of his human friend._

_Silence was all he received, yet he was not entirely disappointed. With the way their folded hands trembled in their lap, and the way their lips quivered; it told him that their silence was forced. That there was a war raging behind their eyes they were trying to keep hidden. That several a time, it looked as though they were going to open their mouth, but they were forcing themself to keep their lips sealed. Forcing themself to keep quiet._

_"...PERHAPS..."_

_He slowly extended his closest hand toward Frisk._

_"THIS ISSUE IS NOT OF MY BROTHER DISLIKING_ YOU _..."_

_He inched closer, sockets focused intently on Frisk's face._

_"BUT...RATHER..."_

_He placed his hand atop Frisk's subtly trembling ones._

_"OF YOU...DISLIKING...YOURSELF?"_

_A knock at the front door - three polite, evenly-spaced raps - answered the skeleton._

_Papyrus straightened with a start, and stood up immediately. "COMING!" Never one to keep a newly-arrived guest waiting outside, he rushed straight to the door and threw it wide open, finding a familiar face standing on the other side._

_"YOUR MAJESTY!" he greeted cheerfully. "WELCOME BACK!"_

_"Please, Papyrus, 'Toriel' will do just fine," Toriel cordially insisted. "And I apologize for my tardiness. The meeting for securing the grounds for my new school took far longer than I originally planned. I hope this did not cause you or your brother any trouble."_

_"IT WAS NO TROUBLE AT ALL, YOUR MAJES-TORIEL! WE BOTH GREATLY ENJOYED FRISK'S EXTENDED COMPANY! WHY, FRISK EVEN HELPED US UNPACK THE LAST OF OUR MOVING BOXES!"_

_"Is that so?" The smile on her face became filled with pride. "What a helpful child that little one is."_

_"INDEED THEY ARE! THEY DID SO WELL A JOB IN HELPING US, IN FACT-" He leaned forward a bit, his entire demeanor becoming sneaky and conspiring. "-I BELIEVE THEY ARE DESERVING OF A SPECIAL REWARD FOR ALL THEIR HARD WORK, HMM?"_

_Toriel kept the skeleton's gaze, her expression blank, for a few moments. Then she pulled a sly half-grin and winked._

_Papyrus nodded slightly in acknowledgement, then straightened himself. "FRISK!" he called back over his shoulder. "TORIEL HAS ARRIVED TO TAKE YOU HOME!"_

_"Be sure not to forget any of your belongings, my child," Toriel urged. "Especially your coat; it is a very chilly night tonight, and I will not have you catching a cold in this air."_

_Frisk had already gotten up from the couch and was pulling on their boots. Once the footwear was properly laced-up, they crossed over to the coat rack beside the door and struggled to get their coat off of it; they had such short arms, and the hook their jacket hung from was just so high up. Unprompted, Papyrus gladly retrieved the outerwear and presented it to Frisk, who took it and pulled it on without a word._

_"Are you ready to go?" Toriel asked as they finished zipping it up._

_Frisk nodded obediently._

_"Are you forgetting anything?"_

_Frisk shook their head obediently._

_Toriel stared for a moment, then turned to the tall skeleton beside them. "Good night, Papyrus," she told him. "And thank you again for having them."_

_"...Good night, Papyrus," Frisk parroted softly, obediently. "...Thank you for having me."_

_"IT WAS OUR PLEASURE, TORIEL! FRISK!" Papyrus assured proudly, speaking on behalf of his currently absent brother as well as himself. "AND, PLEASE, DO NOT BE STRANGERS, BECAUSE WE ARE NOT! YOU ARE WELCOME HERE ANY TIME!"_

_Toriel smiled cordially. "And know that same hospitality is extended to you and your brother as well. Now, come along, innocent one." She reached down and took Frisk's hand in hers. "It is past your bedtime."_

_The pair left. Papyrus waved after them as they stepped off the front porch, walked along the empty driveway, and down the barren tree-lined street. He waved after them even as they left his field of vision, and for quite a time after._

_And it wasn't until long after they were nowhere nearby that he stopped, let his arm drop, and allowed himself to frown._

_...What_ was _all that? What in this great wide world prompted the asking of such a question? And it had brought with it such a jarring shift in mood; he had never experienced one of this caliber before. The only other instance that came even close was when he'd be awoken from a pleasant dream to the sounds of thrashing and moaning from down the hall, and he'd have to rouse his brother from the fits of a nightmare. Everything would become calm and peaceful again soon after he comforted his brother; the change in mood would not last._

_This one, however, did._

_Even with the brief respite that came with Toriel coming and taking them away, Papyrus still felt the weight of Frisk's inquiry as though it was a pea soup-thick fog permeating every molecule of air in the room behind him. He could not shake it, nor could he still understand how or why his human friend would ever believe such an idea._

_Sans hating someone. It truly did sound like nothing short of a hilarious joke to him. Sans did not hate anyone. Sure, he was not particularly fond of Papyrus and Frisk's mutual friend, but he did not_ hate _him! And the idea of Frisk being the someone Sans hated; why, he could burst out laughing at that very moment such a far-fetched notion sounded so much like a joke!_

_But no laughter ensued. Not even a snicker. Especially when the image of how very heavy-laden-with-guilt Frisk appeared to be when they made that inquiry resurfaced in the front of his mind._

_Still standing in the doorway, Papyrus looked down and wrung his hands, complicated feelings of shame and penitence rising within him. What had he been thinking? Laughing them off when they looked so ashamed? That wasn't like him. That sounded more along the lines of what his brother might've done in the situation. How could he have been so rude, inconsiderate, and dismissive of his friend's feelings?_

_And on top of that, there was the last thing he had said to them before Toriel came a-knocking. Frisk disliking themself; now_ that _sounded more far-fetched than the idea of Sans disliking them! What had brought_ that _on? Frisk had never before given the implication that they didn't like themself, so it was completely unbiased for him to claim such an absurd-_

_~~"I have zero redeeming qualities."~~ _

_Papyrus straightened with a start, blinked several times. That...no. Frisk never said that. They never showed such humility by putting themself down like that. And for that matter, neither had they ever openly berated themself by calling themself a loser, or anything of the like. Frisk had never said any of this!_

_At least...not outside the realm of his dreams._

_Papyrus furrowed his brow and shook his head. Having zero redeeming qualities, calling themself a loser; those were only things he dreamt-up Frisk saying. They did not count. And rightfully so. He knew his human friend, and he knew they could not think that way about themself. Frisk was great! Superb! Spectacular! And quite possibly the best human friend he could ever ask for. And considering they had himself as the greatest friend_ anyone _could ask for, there was no possible way Frisk thought so poorly of themself!_

_...But, then...why would they ask that question? Why did they seem so conflicted to say anything more? Why did they seem so heavily burdened with guilt?_

_...And why did that burden seem to surreptitiously worsen when Toriel called them 'innocent one'?_

_It was at that moment, still standing in the open doorway of his and his brother's house on the surface, that the skeleton came to a realization._

_Truly, he knew very little about his little human friend._

_Frisk was a human; that much he knew from his very first encounter with them in the Underground. And being the only human in the Underground he'd seen, he immediately assumed all humans looked as they did. It wasn't until Frisk freed the monsters from their millennia of imprisonment, and he encountered other humans, that he realized Frisk was quite small for a human. Quite quiet for one, too. Not to mention quite young, especially considering all the monumental feats they've done for the monsters. They were only a child, and they had single-handedly ended his kind's underground imprisonment._

_Other than that, he was astounded to realize he knew virtually_ nothing _about Frisk. They told him they could make spaghetti, but did they know how to make other kinds of pasta, too? Did they know how to make foods outside the realms of pasta? Did they have a favorite among those foods? Did they like to read? If so, what was their favorite book? Did they play any sports? If so, which kind did they feel as though they could better improve themself in? Did they know how to ice skate? If not, would they object to the idea of him teaching them?_

_Frisk was a human, which meant they lived on the surface before arriving in the Underground, right? If that was the case, what kind of life did they live before they met all their wonderful friends in the Underground? Did they go to school? Who was their best friend? And what about family? Did they have any to speak of? And if they did, why haven't they come forward to confirm their relation to Frisk yet?_

_What were their hopes for the future? What lifelong dreams motivated them?_

_What had brought them to the Underground in the first place?_

_Another realization dawned on him. This one was much colder and far more disheartening. Since he knew so little about them...then there was a great possibility that they truthfully_ did _think so little of themself._

_His shoulders slumped so much his arms almost completely detached themselves. His sockets wandered across the lawn of dry brown grass, up to the empty street, then off into the distance Frisk and Toriel had long since disappeared to. When the former queen had arrived, truthfully, he did not want to leave things as he left it before Frisk left with her. He wanted to understand the human's reasoning behind why they asked such a question. He was confident he was making some real progress before the knocking at the front door, and he left the one-sided conversation hanging to answer it. He wanted nothing more than to understand how his little human friend could believe such things. And, perhaps, confide these ill-tidings with the one they called 'mom'._

_But, no. He could not do that. He had to leave things as they were when he was interrupted by Toriel's arrival. And something told him that, despite his best efforts, perhaps he was not as close as he was to coax more out of them. Their entire demeanor had begged him not to continue pressing the matter. Their silence screamed 'don't make me say it'. He could even hazard the guess that just by asking that one question, stringing together and voicing those four words, and they felt like they had already said too much._

_And he could not go to the former queen about this, either. As far as he knew, he was the only one Frisk had confided in, intentionally or not. They trusted him with this information, and he knew how very important it was for him to not break that bond of trust by talking to anyone else about it. So in the end, he could only give Toriel the vaguest of hints that, maybe, Frisk could use some extra attention and TLC from their motherly guardian tonight._

_There was something very familiar about this whole situation, as he soon came to realize. Something very, very familiar..._

_He felt a pit of dread open up within him to recall why this all felt so familiar._

_He frowned, and shook his head. No, that could not happen. They were with the queen- their mother now; she would see to it that nothing bad would befall them, nor would they do anything..._ concerning _with her keeping an eye on them. But the pit remained. As did the urge for him to do something more than to just leave everything the way it had been left. He had to do something to assure them that their doubts were baseless. That there was no way Sans could...ever..._

_He found himself frowning more deeply as he looked over his shoulder, directing his line of sight toward the second floor landing. He thought to earlier that night, as they were unpacking and he had left Sans and Frisk alone for a while to prepare dinner. When he had returned, if only for a moment, he felt a charged tension and awkwardness between the two of them. Had that always been what it was like whenever the two of them were alone together? Was their relationship really so barbed and frigid?_

_Could it be that...Sans really did..._

_A groan of frustration left Papyrus as he fiercely shook his head. He could not let himself start to believe in that ridiculous notion. He had to prove that it was nothing short of absurd for that belief to be anywhere close to the truth. He had to prove that Sans and Frisk's relationship was not as rocky as it seemed to be. He had to strengthen the bonds of friendship he_ knew _connected those two. But how? How..._

_He 'hmm'-ed thoughtfully to himself as he held his chin in his hand, propping his elbow in the other. He found himself looking up as he pondered, found his sockets staring wistfully at the pale moonlight peaking through the dark gray clouds blotting out the starry sky._

_A small sense of tranquility washed over him as he watched the clouds roll across the dark horizon. The monsters had been on the surface for quite a few months now, but Papyrus was still not used to how_ different _this surface world was compared to the world beneath Mt. Ebott. And he was contented to believe that he never would be. This surface world seemed to always go through constant change, and he found wonder in every one he saw. The changing of the seasons, the changing from day to night; he would never grow accustomed to it. And that was perfectly okay with him._

_...Just as it was perfectly okay with him to admit to himself that he currently could not think of what he could do to address the dilemma that was Frisk and Sans' relationship-strengthening._

_...Well. Even if he hadn't drawn a blank, there was nothing he could do about it now. It was late at night, Sans was asleep, and Frisk had a bedtime deadline to attend to. All the work he'd done with those two earlier that day was starting to get to him, as well. Maybe he ought to get some shut-eye as well..._

_Papyrus nodded to himself, then finally shut the front door. He retired to his bedroom, believing enough hours of sleep would get the creative gears of thought turning, and grace him with a good plan to address Frisk's dilemma in the morning. The pit of dread persisted as he dozed off, but he found the will to ignore it._

_It was only one more night._

_He could afford to wait that long._

\----

The cord was plugged into its jack. The computer and soul scanner were connected. The static-choked feedback from the scanner popped up in a new window on the computer's screen. The algorithm was ready to be applied. Just one more push of the button remained.

"Alright, whoever or whatever you are." The tears around her eyes dried, Alphys, expression grimly resolute, pushed that button. "Let's find out exactly where you're hi-"

"W-Wait-!"

"-ding."

It's curious; how the world can seem to stop turning, how time can seem to freeze, if only for a moment. And how many different things can trigger it. Like watching a love one become mortally wounded. That moment of stillness before the storm begins its downpour. Seeing a friend bearing a face that did not belong to them. Imputing the command to run an algorithm against a human's soul. Very curious indeed, how this one moment felt like it wasted for far longer than it actually did.

Then time continued its forward march when the room was suddenly plunged into darkness.

The shifting of fabric was heard as several of the room's occupants flinched at the sudden loss of light. Other than that, the silence was deafening. The hum of electricity, the buzz of static, even the clock's tick-tock it seemed; all had been cut off as swiftly as the feed from every single screened device within the room. The only source of light before had come entirely from the monitors. Now, the brightest - and only - light source in the room came from Sans' pupils, which swiveled this way and that in search of anything recognizable within the darkness.

They swiveled to the general direction of where he remembered the computer table stood against one wall when a noise broke through the silence.

"That..." Alphys' voice muttered from the shadows. "That shouldn't've happe-"

Then, the static returned.

With as much subtlety as a train wreck.

It was as though a bomb had exploded. The shock-waves from the audible burst completely knocked every standing individual off their feet. The crazed frenzy the visual choked every screen with quite literally blinded everyone within the 'blast radius', if only momentarily.

They thought the silence had been deafening.

The static's return was _maddening_.

It sounded like the feedback from a thousand faulty microphones. Like a thousand nails scraping against chalkboard. Like a thousand revving chainsaws. Like a thousand amplifiers cranked up to the highest setting blaring thousands upon thousands of dissonant chords, each uncomplimentary to each other, making the cacophony that much more unbearable.

Those who had ears clamped their hands down over them, and those who didn't slammed their palms over where they would be. That did practically nothing to protect themselves from the mad symphony threatening to shake apart the very foundation they laid cringing upon. They could feel the static screech within them, feel it reverberating against their very souls. It threatened to shake those apart, too, completely immobilized them.

Blinded and disoriented, pain-stricken and stricken paralyzed, there was little those gathered in the lab that night could do to make the cause of their sudden suffering stop, let alone wonder what, exactly, had set it off.

After the passing of an incalculable amount of time, it lessened. Or maybe they had merely gotten used to it. Hearing loss could explain it as well. But no. That wasn't what was happening. The paralyzing reverberation against their souls would've stayed the same if they were only going deaf. But that, too, lessened, and they found themselves not as paralytic as before. They could start to relax their lock-jointed postures, move their hands away from their heads, open their eyes, reorient themselves.

See that a short, reptilian monster had crawled to where she earlier dropped her wireless keyboard, was typing and knob-twisting away at it in a fiercely focused frenzy.

"Al...most..." Alphys' voice, barely heard though the static was steadily decreasing, sounded as strained as she looked in the light cast by the static-choked screens of the monitor monolith. And that, too, looked as though it was steadily decreasing. "Almost...g-got it...!"

The others soon realized her typing and turning at her keyboard was what was causing the static's turbulence to lessen, and were grateful for her efforts. Everyone slowly started righting themselves, including Alphys. The monolith became easier to behold, the sounds it emitted easier on the ears (or equivalents thereof). In fact, the static was starting to sound less cacophonous, look less sporadic and monochrome. Everyone could almost see properly again, hear their own thoughts, along with the clacking and twisting of the buttons and knobs on Alphys' keyb-

"There!!"

At once, the typing and twisting ceased.

The static was no more.

What replaced it-

 _"-isturbance in the nearby au-"_  
_"-ANTITY WILL REMAIN STA-"_  
_"-ber-one word-search crea-"_  
_"-s a GREAT place to meet gi-"_  
_"-nd and feel like garb-"_  
_"-se some MERC-"_

-was something absolutely no one could've ever expected.

 _"-oa there, pardn-"_  
_"-ime! Only DEADT-"_  
_"-u should play ups-"_  
_"-ove FIGHTING THE IV-"_  
_"-ow what you di-"_  
_-on't. capich-"_

Even with every one of their feet planted firmly on the floor, the gathered group of monsters felt very un-grounded and light. Each shared the same expression of wide-eyed, gaping shock. Each had these expressions pointed toward the same source.

"Wh..." finally managed Asgore. "What... _is_ this?"

 _"-aaat's politi-"_  
_"-eels unsafe here tod-"_  
_"-ays wanted to be a te-"_  
_"-sn't really matter wha-"_  
_"-ify yoursmel-"_  
_"-EPTOMANIAC FOR AFFE-"_

"Alphys...babe...what're we looking at?" hoarsely muttered Undyne.

 _"-et enough books when I w-"_  
_"-re you standing around fo-"_  
_"-ARK AND FULL OF GRE-"_  
_"-n't stop shive-"_  
_"-ESTROY YOU WITHOUT REGR-"_  
_"-bsolutely beau-"_

"I..." Alphys appeared the most dumbfounded of all, her gaping expression completely unblinking and the keyboard in her claws dangerously on the verge of slipping from them again. "I..."

 _"-ing to make out with a fi-"_  
_"-led her out of bored-"_  
_"-ves my life validatio-"_  
_"-all it 'dapper bl'-"_  
_"-IALED EVERY NUMBER SEQU-"_  
_"-ime to begin your judgm-"_

"...memories."

Sans' low, careful tenor, heavy with realization, prompted several to at least blink. "these...must be..."

 _"-BEY THE OVE-"_  
_"-ATHE IN A SHOWE-"_  
_"-all me...'Moth'-"_  
_"-NS NEVER TELLS ANYBODY AN-"_  
_"-ant to elimi-"_  
_"-ey come. They leave. They d-"_

"...frisk's memories..."

 _"-ells kinda...quie-"_  
_"-IME'S REAL, RI-"_  
_"-re utterly repuls-"_  
_"-T'S A LIBRARY CA-"_  
_"-ve stayed away from the-"_  
_"-ill or BE kil-"_

"...of their times in the underground!"

The view provided by the monitor monolith had become colorful, kaleidoscopic, chaotic. What once was a thousand overlapping, dissonant chords had become a thousand overlapping, dissonant words. The sight was eye-watering. The sound was ear-numbing. And it wasn't until Sans made his observations that they realized the familiarity within the madness.

It was _their_ visages fracturing within the kaleidoscopic view.

It was _their_ voices dissonating against each others'.

The monolith was still displaying locations of the Underground; the where hadn't changed.

The _when_ had.

 _"-INALLY BE AB-"_  
_"-ust a silly little la-"_  
_"-eited can you ge-"_  
_"-r than a benchful of qui-"_  
_"-edom is comin-"_  
_"-isgusting anima-"_

"...WAIT A MINUTE." Papyrus' voice - _present_ Papyrus' voice - cut through the pandemonium like a dull blade through ice; in other words, with difficulty. Even with his elocution retaining its usual boisterousness, much like with everyone else's, his voice was difficult to hear in all the clamor.

"IF THESE ARE FRISK'S MEMORIES," he continued, suspicion creeping into his words, "THEN...SHOULD THEY NOT ALL BE FROM _FRISK'S_ POINT OF VIEW?"

It was hard to see what Papyrus was talking about, at first. Within the fractional amount of time it took to pick out a single scene or voice among the madness, the scene would change, a different voice would smother the first. One screen could be showing Papyrus posing heroically while simultaneously listening to Alphys geeking-out about some obscure piece of Mew Mew Kissy Cutie trivia. The next split second later, the screen would show a cozy living area with a fire burning in the fireplace while the screams of a dying monster rose above the rest of the clamor. There was no method to the madness, no rhyme nor reason to be found. It was all very morbidly mesmerizing.

 _"-ect weather fo-"_  
_"-m, Fresh Sweet Ha-"_  
_"-'m late!!! I'm so sor-"_  
_"-AGUING MY LIFE WITH INC-"_  
_"-re all these tables comi-"_  
_"-awls her name in the margi-"_

Head-swimmingly chaotic as it was, eventually, the others could see the veracity of Papyrus' statement. Some flashes of memories looked as though they were viewing it through the eyes of someone short and small. Others had visions of that someone short and small making an appearance, as if viewing the scene from an outsider's perspective. Not to mention, some of those outsider's perspective shots were at very odd angles; one such fleeting vision was as though looking down on a puzzle in Hotland from a birds-eye view.

It was an even split. Half the time, the fleeting images were from Frisk's point of view. The other half...well there was no constant to the perspectives from those, but they were definitely not seen through Frisk's eyes.

It was as though someone had been watching them.

 _"-gine a blue stop s-"_  
_"-ver trust a flow-"_  
_"-e what i'd say abo-"_  
_"-sters have fami-"_  
_"-our flesh rotte-"_  
_"-xing contest? Ok, fl-"_

Sans' mind was reeling, and not just from the dizzying anarchy assaulting two out of the five senses. Alphys' algorithm; she had attuned it to Frisk's soul so that the 'impostor' could be pinpointed and understood. This pandemonic slur of memories was the outcome of applying the algorithm. When he first realized what they all were witnessing, the first conclusion he had jumped to was that the 'impostor' was hiding in Frisk's memories of their timelines. Papyrus' observations made him realize it was much more than that.

Who or whatever this 'impostor' was, they must have seen and remembered as much as Frisk had.

 _"-t new drinks an' h-h-h-ho-"_  
_"-ot let Asgore take yo-"_  
_"-at weird outfi-"_  
_"-range dog kidn-"_  
_"-eived an anonymous ti-"_  
_"-elt my smile falt-"_

"...Turn it off."

Speaking in a low, even tone at this point did little to assure the message would be heard amid the ruckus. But where it lacked in volume was made up in the commanding authority of a well-practiced monarch.

"We...We do not need to be seeing this." Toriel's tone remained level, but the slight tremor of her clenched fists at her sides belied whatever emotion she was trying to keep reigned in. "Shut it down."

 _"-nly see movi-"_  
_"-ite merciful, for a hu-"_  
_"-logue for EVER-"_  
_"-OI! i'm temmi-"_  
_"-king such a differe-"_  
_"-ere really insuff-"_

Sans found the will to pry his sockets away from the monolith of monitors-turned monolith of memories so he could regard Toriel with caged uncertainty. "tori-"

"I do not want to hear any excuses!" snapped the former queen, her acerbic tone betraying her composure. "This is a blatant intrusion of privacy, and I am sure Frisk will not appreciate having their memories so brazenly put on display like-like some side-show attraction!"

 _"-MOTIONAL CACTU-"  
   "-nts Can't T-"_  
   "-t of-"  
_"-ng me that water, I g-"_  
_"-ay Monsters and Hu-"_  
_"-at's hilari-"_

"...frisk knew the risks," Sans carefully reminded. "this was their choice-"

"Do. _Not_. Patronize me." There was a definite tremor of something besides justified anger in her voice now, and in her shoulders. "And do not take me for a fool, either. I know exactly how hypocritical I now sound to be so suddenly against this process. But _this_..."

The tremor had spread to her lips. Her eyes were watering, and something told Sans that it wasn't just because of the harsh array of light spilling forth from the monolith of memories. "This is _not_ what I envisioned. And it cannot be what Frisk envisioned, either."

Sans had no rebuttals to offer. "tori..."

 _"-ND OF CARTOON FOR SMA-"_  
   "-n it o-"  
_"-rible creatu-"_  
_"-ink any of those mon-"_  
_"-Y CALLING SOMEONE FOR HEL-"_  
_"-ere is he-"_

"...Frisk is my charge." Her composure momentarily regained, Toriel turned her attention to the one that had instigated this...frankly bizarre turn of events. "I understand that they have made an informed decision, but given the circumstances, you cannot argue that I have the jurisdiction to overrule that decision. Stop this madness, Dr. Alphys."

 _"-ERY IMPOSSIBLE FOR Y-"  
   "-s my Big Favori-"_  
   "-rn it o-"  
_"-o worries too m-"_  
_"-ait until one of them admi-"_  
_"-rgeddaboudi-"_

"...Dr. Alphys?"

The blame for Alphys' lack of response could be pinned on the discord drowning out Toriel's voice. But there was more to it than that. The morbidly mesmerizing effect the kaleidoscopic view of the memory monolith possessed, as was now very apparent, had a more profound effect on the scientist than on any of the others. She was very still and unmoving. Her jaw had gone slack, her mouth open wide enough to catch a fair number of flies. Her eyes had become big and glossy behind her glasses, which reflected the ever changing sights the monolith displayed. She was completely transfixed and entranced by it.

 _"-WHELMED BY THE SI-"  
   "-l out of vacation da-"  
   "-posed to be swinging i-"  
   "-e's not dangero-"_  
   "-rn it of-"  
_"-ing has fallen into pl-"_

"Alphys?" Undyne crossed over to her and firmly shook her shoulder. "Babe, c'mon, it's not _that_ interesting to look at! And, uh, I'm gonna have to take Toriel's side on this; I don't feel all that comfortable, er, _peeking_ into Frisk's head like this. And I don't think you do, either. It's pretty messed up, don't'cha think?"

Alphys remained slack-jawed and unresponsive.

 _"-umped trying to so-"_  
   "-urn it of-"  
_"-VER BEEN BEATEN AT DA-"_  
   "-urn it OF-"  
_"-o snaileth Sam By-"  
   "-ra la la. The angel is com-"_

Undyne gritted her teeth, nervousness flitting across her features. "Alphys, you gotta stop this," she urged with an even more firm shake of her wife's shoulder. "This...This ain't right; you know that. I _know_ you know that! I know you're proud of your algorithm and stuff, but if this is the result...there's gotta be a better way to-"

   "-n it o-"  
_"-an pet other d-"_  
   "-rn it of-"  
_"-ling machine with a thirst for hu-"_  
   "-urting them!!"  
_"-RK PRISON OF PAS-"_  
   "-URN IT OFF!!!"

It was unspokenly noted that the memory voices, along with the other background noises, had slight distortions to them; sorta like distorted audio from a worn-out video tape. Maybe the distortion was only created because the differing noises were clashing against each other so much. One such noise - a chirpy, familiar voice - that surfaced among the rest of the commotion sounded distorted, too.

But, somehow, this distortion was different. This warped audio sounded distant, small, whispering, even though there was the distinct impression that the voice was yelling at the top of its lungs. Not only that, it sounded repetitive, unlike the split-second clips that only had the time it took to snap for their share in the proverbial spot light to recite their soliloquys before the next took their transitory turn. Even though it, like the others, originated from the monolith, the distortion made the voice sound like it was coming farther away from that.

Wait. No. Listening more closely proved that to be incorrect. Yes, the general area was within the monitors' radius, but the voice wasn't coming from the monolith. It was coming from in _front_ of it. Those that came to this realization focused their attentions there-

"Turn it off!" whisper-screeched the potted flower seated on the couch's cushions, his panic clear though his visage seemed to be just as distorted as his voice. "Turn it off!! You're hurting them!! TURN IT OFF!!!"

-and immediately felt the mood jarringly shift from morbid reverie to alert horror.

 _"-t's that in fr-"_  
_"-east you list-"_  
_"-eciate what makes puz-"_  
_"-GED TO HIT THE FRIEND ZO-"_  
_"-ften feel like I alr-"_  
_"-erish this gho-"_

Flowey wasn't the only one who's visage appeared distorted. With him, it was as though looking at him through glass being continuously warped, or through water being constantly churned up.

The visage of the person on the couch with him, however, was an entirely different story.

The closest analogy that came to mind to describe this distortion was a computer virus that had corrupted the entire system, clotting the screen with a plethora of glitching error messages. It was...it was nothing believed to be possible before that moment.

It was as though the static had taken physical form, and was trying to be in two- three- five- ten- countless places at once. It jumped sporadically around the space surrounding Frisk's body, never settling in the same exact position for more than a split second. It looked fluid as water yet rigid as stone; it never took on a single, solid shape or form.

...Was _this_ the impostor? Was this physical manifestation of erratically gesticulating static its true form? Or was this static just another mask it was hiding behind? Speaking of which...

No. The mask was still there. Then it wasn't. Then it was. Seemed this piece of the impostor hadn't escaped...whatever this was. Its expression remained the same most of the time, albeit the spasming and warping that made it look, for lack of a better word, blocky. The rest of the time, its smiling mouth was open very wide, two white, unevenly-sized points of white shone it its eyes (which were very wide open, too), and the entire shape of the mask seemed to have become elongated. It convulsed with seizure-inducing spasms.

Surprisingly enough, it seemed as though Frisk's body was entirely unaffected by the glitching distortions. That, however, remained the central cause for why the mood changed. Their back was arched in a rigid hunch. Their shoulders were hunched forward and inward. Their arms were bent in front of their torso. Their hands were fixidly clenched into claws. In the brief moments when the 'mask' was not obscuring their face, the gathered could see that their eyes were tightly sealed shut, unbelievably strong lines of tension and strain creased their face, and their mouth was open very wide.

It was then realized that it wasn't just the memory echoes of dying monsters that were screaming.

 _"-IFFERENT FUNC-"_  
_"-eam women TERRORI-"_  
_"-ne else's Torie-"_  
_"-hind that rushing wa-"_  
_"-SHION POL-"_  
_"-nally someone ge-"_

" _Frisk!!!_ " Toriel rushed forward, pushing all aside and disregarding any care for her own safety as she reached for the human behind the veil of distortion. Her outstretched hands only came within three feet of them when there was a flash, and the air was rent with a sound like crashing thunder. Toriel was expelled, knocked completely off her feet, and sent so far back along the path she blazed she crashed into the blackboard.

"Tori!!" Asgore rushed for his ex as she slid limply to the ground. The others moved to do the same, but moved only a few steps before Asgore reached her first. The blackboard behind her had not only broken her fall, but had also broken; cracks spread out from the epicenter of the impact site, and the board was completely snapped in half. Toriel, thankfully, did not appear broken at all. A little shaken as Asgore righted her, but there was no physical damage to her body. "Are you alright?!"

The tears in her eyes and the utterly horrified expression on her face answered him.

"Dr. Alphys what's going on!?" She kept that expression pointed at none other than who she had failed in trying to reach. " _What is happening to my child?!_ "

 _"-ould not have le-"_  
_"-n't tell my pare-"_  
_"-ulty in interes-"_  
_"-gerous to pl-"_  
_"-ark cavern-"_  
_"-ISTER A HEARTY ZA-"_

Alphys, awoken from her trance by Toriel's flight, turned immediately to her computer, tripping over herself only once in her urgency. Practically throwing her wireless keyboard to one side on the desk once she got there, she fumbled only a moment before she correctly imputed her desired commands into the computer. The open window showing the scanner's feedback - finally free of static - reacted to the commands she imputed. It took a few seconds to process, and then...

"...Oh god." Somehow, Alphys' expression became even more horrified than Toriel's. She took an involuntary step backwards, her entire body shivering with poorly contained tremors. "Oh _god_...!"

The others could not see what she saw in the mess of data streaming on the computer's screen. Her reaction, however, gave reason enough to assume it wasn't good. "alph, what is it?" called Sans over the ever continuous discordant symphony verging total hearing loss for everyone gathered. "what's going on??"

"It's the memories!" blurted Alphys in a squeaky half-sob. "Th-They're remembering too much all at once! It's putting too much strain on their soul! A-At this rate it...it...!"

Her voice broke like glass as she revealed the reason for her horror: " _It's going to rip itself apart!!!_ "

 _"-ll come to reso-"_  
_"-rasure of our loc-"_  
_"-OULDN'T EVEN SAVE HERSE-"_  
_"-IG, FUZZY PUSHO-"_  
_"-mes do cause vio-"_  
_"-ery awaits y-"_

The air became charged with dread-filled tension. "What can be done??" helplessly demanded Asgore.

Alphys, the intended recipient of the former king's demands, seemed too lost in her grievous horror to respond. Her foot involuntarily slid backwards again, her hands covering her mouth as tears rolled freely down her cheeks. "Th-This shouldn't've h-h-happened," she whimpered, her head slowly shaking side to side. "Th-Th-The algorithm... I-I-It's imp-p-possible..!"

Taking her wife's mutterings as a clue, Undyne willed a spear into her fist. "If the algorithm's doing this," she reasoned, "then getting Frisk detached from the scanner should help, right!? Hang on, Frisk! Aunt Undyne's coming!!"

She left none no time to answer or oppose her before she lunged for the wires connecting Frisk to the machine, screeching a war cry as she approached.

The sound both snapped Alphys out of her fugue and drowned out her misgivings to this course of action. "No! Don't-!"

There was another flash and air-rending crash as the tip of Undyne's spear made contact with nothing, ricocheted out of her grasp, then nearly shish kebab-ed Sans through his left eye socket.

 _"-UNTLET OF DEADLY TE-"_  
_"-is to you? You wil-"_  
_"-tack or ru-"_  
_"-orld sure felt bou-"_  
_"-TA cancel scho-"_  
_"-at a beautiful kno-"_

Sweat coated Sans' skull as he - almost impossibly quickly - dodged the spear, which then lodged itself into the paper-covered floor several feet behind where he stood previously. He looked back to the others, clearly shaken. "what the _hell_??"

"My thoughts exactly!" Knowing Sans was not being accusatory with his remark, Undyne - who had skidded backwards a few feet when her spear rebounded - willed another weapon into being. "Maybe if I just aim somewhere else-"

"No! You can't!" Alphys hastened to Undyne and grabbed her arm. "D-Don't separate them from the scanner! And definitely don't try to destroy it either!"

Something between a scowl and a grimace appeared on Undyne's face. "Why not?! Isn't that what's hurting them?!"

"I'm honestly don't know at this point!" Alphys more fervently tugged Undyne's arm. "That alone is reason enough not to damage the scanner, or sever their connection to it! The scanner is completely attuned to their soul right now; I'm not 100% positive it'll happen but, if anything happens to the scanner or Frisk's connection to it, you'll risk permanently damaging their soul!!"

Expression haunted, Undyne voluntarily willed away her weapon, and involuntarily slid backwards a step.

 _"-ars faded ou-"_  
_"-ust not very fu-"_  
_"-eard of a talking flo-"_  
_"-OU IS VERY...MURDE-"_  
_"-o anything, so why be mor-"_  
_"-ed the Red Hot Chibi Pep-"_

"THEN WHAT DO YOU PROPOSE WE DO, DR. ALPHYS??" Papyrus had raised his voice above its usual decibel level, though it was unclear whether it was just because he wanted to make sure he was heard, or if it was also out of the anxiety and fear written clearly across his face. "WE CANNOT JUST CONTINUE STANDING AROUND DOING _NOTHING_ WHILE THESE MEMORIES PLAY A VERY MACABRE VERSION OF TUG-O-WAR ON FRISK'S SOUL!!"

"I know, I know!" Alphys released Undyne's arm, her claws trembling as her attention jerked back and forth between the couch, the monolith, and her computer. "I k-know we should do something! B-But this...this shouldn't've happened..."

"You continue saying that," firmly interrupted Asgore, "but it does not change the fact that it has happe-"

"No," even more firmly interrupted Alphys. "I mean this _really_ shouldn't have happened! I knew all the risks tied into this process, and I knew that dragging up old memories was one of them! If that happened, then the memories should've resurfaced one at a time! But _this_!" She gestured broadly to the monolith. "Memory recollection of this scale is completely unprecedented! Impossible! This _literally_ should not have been able to happen!!"

 _"-y brother coo-"_  
_"-ike, LIKE yo-"_  
_"-oud of you, li-"_  
_"-gn is mispe-"_  
_"-y one true lo-"_  
_"-ETON WITH STANDA-"_

"It matters not how impossible this is!" Toriel visibly shook as she righted herself, using Asgore's shoulder as a prop until she was back on her feet. "Surely it should not inhibit you from finding a way to stop this!!"

She tore her teary-eyed gaze away from the couch and rested it on the short scientist only a few feet away. "Dr. Alphys, _please_! They are _suffering_! There must be _something_ you can do!!"

Alphys held her gaze for a moment before it turned swiftly toward the couch, toward the silently screaming child trapped behind the veil of distortion around it. She felt her tears return in full force.

"I-I'm trying, I'm _trying_!" She looked to the ground and started pounding her fists against the sides of her head. "C-C'mon, stupid brain, _think_! What can I do!? What can I-!?"

 _"-ke my han-"_  
_"-ease, wake up! You are th-"_  
_"-ot going to say goodb-"_  
_"-n't really like myse-"_  
_"-U DON'T H-HAVE TO DESTR-"_  
_"-re you so scare-"_

Then, all at once, it stopped.

Every image on every screen comprising the monolith froze. Every sound and word blaring from it silenced. The space around the couch no longer looked so distorted. Frisk's body could be clearly seen. Frisk's eyes snapped wide open.

Another impossibly long moment frozen in time passed.

If anything, this sudden turn made the gathered even more anxious. Why did it stop? Alphys was no where near her equipment, nor was anyone else; they couldn't've done anything to silence the polyphonic pandemonium. So what had triggered the memories to-

_why are you so scared?_

The calm before the storm ended with a single drop of rain. Everyone flinched, then slowly turned their heads to stare, in varying degrees of confusion, at the short skeleton standing among them.

Sans, bullets of sweat rolling down his skull, met their gazes with a clueless head shake. "i...i didn't say anyth-"

_why are you so scared?_

There it was again. Sans' voice, asking a simple question in a lost, somewhat worried tone of voice. But Sans hadn't spoken. The voice was just...there. And there was detected a slight waver in it, like distorted audio from a worn-out video tape.

Had anyone been paying attention, it would have been realized that the light from the monolith they bathed in was slowly turning...blue-er.

    _why are you so scaou so scared?_

That question again. Sans' voice again. Asked twice, one speaking over the other at the end, creating an echo effect.

A terrified grimace broke out across a small, pale face.

Then, the rain really started to pour.

    _why are yoscared you sowhy scared are whycareyou soare yscarehy are scared so scaou soscared_

A ripple effect, starting from somewhere near the upper right corner of the monolith, spread out across the monitors. The memories they displayed shifted and changed, like a large-scale flipping of channels on a regular TV. They all settled on the same 'channel'; an area in Waterfall, judging by the distinct dark blue and general dampness of the displayed cavern walls. Truthfully, the subdued color was a welcome relief on everyone's eyes after the chaos from before. But, as with every previous turn of events, this one did little to relief the anxious confusion stirring within their hearts.

    _sco scaare yowhy scared you so whysca sososored whare whyso ssocaderso oreyoschy_

"alph?" Present-Sans' voice pressed through his past echoes, expression disturbed as he stared pointedly at Alphys. "the hell just happened??"

Alphys crossed back over to her computer, her pace not as urgent as before (most likely because of how very dumbfounded this new development had made her). She examined the feedback from the scanner for a moment. Her eyebrows shot up her forehead.

"It..." she mumbled, then announced in a louder, clearer voice, "They're starting to settle on a single memory! B-But, by the look of it...it must be something they really, _really_ don't want to remember?"

Alphys' unsure tone did little in terms of relief from distress-causing confusion. Neither did the sight of Frisk, still seated hunched over and curled-up on the couch, slowly starting to shake their head side to side.

    _aredyouso whyaredou rescasoy soareyred reare youu so whyhywhso are yowhy_

Recognizable shapes stood out against the backdrop of blue. A snow-covered sentry station. An echo flower. A short skeleton in a blue hoodie. A small human in a striped shirt. Some screens showed both persons, others only the skeleton. One person looked confused and worrisome. The other completely scared out of their wits.

"What'd you _do_ to them you _trash heap_?" growled Flowey, everything about him accusatory though his voice and visage remained somewhat distorted.

The finger of blame continued pointing at the skeleton as he found nearly everyone's stares turn to him in suspicion. He started sweating more profusely. "n-nothing! _nothing_!" he firmly denied. "i didn't 'do' anything to them that time, i swear!"

But the provided views of the memory - most of which showed Sans looming over Frisk, who was cowering on the floor against the wall - proved a different story. As the stares turned more suspicious, present-Sans quickly provided context for this little snippet of memory that had painted him in a not-so-guiltless light.

"that time, frisk had come running into that room like the devil was at their heels. they hadn't been paying attention to where they were going, and almost took a swan dive over the edge there. i saved them, then they turned and looked at me like _i_ was the devil at their heels. all i'm trying to do right there is get back to my station, but frisk kept acting like i was gonna... i only ask them why they were so afraid; that's it. and i never got an answer to that question, either. so don't assume i know _why_ frisk doesn't want to remember this, alright?"

Retaining knowledge of the other timelines had always been more a curse than a blessing. Moments like these only reaffirmed that fact for Sans, and went especially double for Frisk, whose persistent head shakes became more frequent and furious. The distorted static hovering around them twitched, insect-like, around the edges. It seemed agitated, unsure of itself.

There was a thunderous crash that made everyone wince. Then another, and another, and another. One by one, then two by two, then four by four, the varying perspectives of that one memory on the monitors converged, coalesced, until the gathered beheld a perfect split between two points-of-view. One from a little above and behind Sans, the other through Frisk's eyes. The duality lasted for a few seconds, then there was another crash, and the entirety of the monolith was a multi-componented view-port of the memory through Frisk's eyes. The echo flower out of their peripheral vision served its purpose in continuously repeating the last thing it heard over and over and over, so much so the gathered started asking themselves that very same question:

_why are you so scared?_

As if things couldn't possibly get more bizarre, they did. This memory, continuously repeating like the needle of a record player getting caught in a groove, began to fall prey to the distortion. The form it took in this instance targeted mostly Sans' voice, making it sound completely unlike his own. There was a hiss of static as the memory's projection shifted, showing not the short figure of past-Sans standing over them, but something else. Some _one_ else? It was nigh impossible to tell; these flashes were even briefer than the barrage of memories from before.

On the couch, Frisk's hands had clamped like vice-grips onto their head. They shook it so much it had spread through their entire upper half, and they had completely thrown off their provided blanket. It fell to the floor, knocking over the sick day pack Toriel had brought for them. Many a medicine container spilled out, and rolled across the floor. The distorted static started collapsing in on them.

The perpetual state of emergency kept rising with every new crack in the case. This one was no different. Several an eye and socket stared helplessly at Alphys. "What is happening now??" cried Toriel.

The scientist's lab coat was very damp in several areas due to the sweat leaking out of her scales. She typed rapidly at the computer's keyboard, hoping desperately that auspicious answers were somewhere hidden within the stream of information pouring into the device. The answers she sought this time, surprisingly, were not so easily recovered.

"I...I'm n-not sure!" she regretfully confessed. "A-All I can tell is that s-something's pulling their soul in one direction, while Frisk themself is trying to pull it the other way! C-Could be another memory? Or th-the impostor?? E-Either way, s-something's gotta give or...or..!"

It did not bear repeating what would happen if no victor to the renewed game of 'soul tug-o-war' could be decided. But who would it be? This unknown factor or Frisk; which one would prevail? Which force of will was stronger? It was impossible to tell who was in the lead; the monolith's feedback kept rapidly shifting between the memory and the something else, and the same went for the question repeated in a metronome-like cadence; switching between Sans' voice and someone else's.

On the couch, Frisk's body had stopped shaking, but was folded over so that their face was against their knees. The static had compressed around them, covered them like a thin blanket. The very air became charged, unstable, oppressive; it felt like a ticking bomb seconds away from detonating.

It was unwarily, unanimously decided that, perhaps, they all ought to put some distance between themselves and the monoli-

_Why_

_are_

_you_

_so_

_scared?_

Frisk's spine straightened with a rapid sequence of muffled pops. Their hands released their head, slammed into their lap before becoming limp and lifeless. Their neck arched back, turned their face up toward the ceiling. Their mouth hung slightly ajar. Their eyes widened to their limit, became very unfocused and glossy, saw something other than what was in front of them.

The memory in Waterfall vanished, was replaced with something entirely different.

A victor, it seemed, had been decided.

 

** Part II **

**CONTENT WARNING: Indirect descriptions of abuse. Read at your own discretion.**

 

 

_A blur as a hand swings down. The sound of flesh striking flesh. The sensation of falling. Fuzzy vision filled with a tiled floor._

_"I don't want to hear any excuses!" an impatient voice yells. "Just clean this mess up! Now!"_

_Stomping feet, moving further away, then a slammed door. The sensation of being alone, disoriented, utterly confused._

The six gathered monsters tripped over nothing whilst standing still. Startled, they only got to share equally lost looks with one another before their attentions were wholly seized by the gargantuan structure taking up and giving light to the room. Silence gripped them, until, slowly, one by one, they recovered their voices.

"WHAT...ON... _EARTH_...?"

_A tiled floor, slowly moving farther away; the sensation of righting oneself. Vision slowly becoming less blurry._

_Dots of liquid staining tiles red._

"is...is this...?"

_Panic. Urgent movement. A cabinet. A counter-top. A sink. A mirror._

_A reflection._

Gasps rang out. None more shocked or breathless than Toriel's.

"... _Frisk_?"

It was never really considered before, that Frisk had ever looked any different than what they were all accustomed to seeing. That they used to be...smaller. Younger, by at least two, three, maybe even five or six years. Newer to the world.

That made it difficult - near impossible - to believe that the reflection the gathered saw displayed upon the screens was that of a smaller, younger, newer Frisk. But that was definitely their hair, if only in a much shorter bob.  That was definitely their face, if only a little more fuller and youthful. Those were definitely their eyes, if only far brighter, more full of innocence.

But that bright, innocent look in their eyes seemed to dim a fraction as they watched more of the red that had stained the floor leak out of their nose.

 _A tiny hand reaching up. Tinier fingers experimentally prodding a facial feature. Winces of pain. A moment of stillness. The reflection's face breaking out into a_ _grimace. Tears welling, then rolling down cheeks in big, swelled drops. A single sniffle ringing out before hands covered closing eyes. Everything went dark._

Words appeared like subtitles in an anime on the soul scanner's otherwise blackened screen. Silent words, but there was the distinct impression that they were being spoken by a smaller, younger, newer version of someone they knew.

> It was an accident...
> 
> I'm sorry...
> 
> Mom.

If there had been even an ounce of doubt harbored until now, that one word alone quickly, effectively, completely snuffed it out.

They all now knew _exactly_ what they were looking at.

_A schoolyard setting. Congregated figures crowded around a large structure, small in stature but appearing much bigger because of their numbers. A conversation comprised of many young voices._

_"Who here thinks I should climb it?"_

_"I do!"_

_"Me, too!"_

_"You should, you should!"_

_"Try to make it to the top!"_

_"You really shouldn't..."_

_Heads turning toward the smaller, quieter, humbler voice. "What'd you say?" asks the first voice, feigning astonishment._

_A flinch. Vision turning down toward a pair of small, wringing hands. "You really shouldn't try to climb that," repeats the small, quiet, humble voice. "Our teacher told us we shouldn't even be over here-"_

_A harsh shove. A shocked yelp. The sensation of falling. Figures re-congregating around the fallen, appearing much bigger due to shifting of perspectives. Stances portraying aggression, contempt._

_"Who asked you!?"_

_"Who even said you could come with us, huh?!"_

_"You're suck a killjoy!"_

_"Quit listening in on conversations you're not a part of!"_

_"Stop being such a nuisance!"_

_Shuddering. Vision impaired by tears. "I...I w-was just..."_

_Approaching footsteps, their gait suggesting someone bigger, older, in a position of authority. "What are you all doing over here?!" yells a growing-closer voice. "Did I not make it clear that this area is off limits?!"_

_Fingers of blame immediately pointing toward the fallen. "It was all Frisk's fault, ma'am!"_

_"They said they were going to climb that big thing!"_

_"We were only trying to stop them!"_

_"They wouldn't listen to us!"_

_"They were yelling at us until you came over!"_

_The taller figure looking down at the fallen. A crushing sense of anger and disappointment in the stare. A deep, weary sigh._

_"I don't have time for this..." Words laced subtly into the sigh. A hand reaching down, grabbing an arm, and yanking its owner to their feet. "I'm going to let you all off with a warning this time. But you're spending the rest of your recess time on the bench, Frisk. And if I catch_ any _of you over here again, I'll have no choice but to contact your parents. Understand?"_

_A chorus of 'Yes'm!'s. Being forcefully lead along while the rest follow freely along behind. Mocking, judgmental snickers coming faintly from behind. Vision shifting, suggesting a head hanging in shame._

> Why do they always blame me...?
> 
> I was just trying to stop them from getting in trouble...
> 
> Why won't anyone ever listen to what I have to say...?

A limited collection of facts was known about Frisk's life before they came to the Underground. Most came straight from the horse's mouth, others through subtle cues and behavioral patterns the 'horse' displayed. It was previously bemoaned - earlier that very same night, no less - that it was truthfully, completely unknown what Frisk's soul (and, by extension, Frisk themself) was like before the sequence of events catalyzed by their arrival to the Underground.

Now, they all had front row seats to see _exactly_ what Frisk's life was like before they ever knew them.

_A big, strong hand tightly grabbing an arm. "Why haven't you done any of your chores yet?" demands an angered voice._

_The sensation of fright and startlement. "I-I was going to do them, I promise!" assures a small, quaking voice. "B-But I had to wait until you got home, Dad. M-Mom's asleep, and I c-can't reach the cleaning supplies on my own!"_

_"Is that your excuse?" scoffs the first voice. "It's_ always _excuses with you, isn't it? 'I can't clean the carpet because the vacuum cleaner's too heavy!' 'I keep making a mess in the bathroom because I can't reach the sink!' Listen here, runt: no one, and I mean_ no one _, likes a whiny brat who keeps making excuses so they can keep slacking off!"_

_"But it's the truth!" the smaller voice rebuts. "I really can't reach-"_

_"Stupid kid! Just shut up already!" snaps the first, a tight grip tightening. "I'm tired of hearing you make up these lame-ass excuses! Now I've had a long day and a migraine to nurse; quit wasting both our times and do your chores already!"_

_Vision shifting, suggesting a turn of the head to look to one side. "I still can't reach the supplies..."_

_"What did you just say?"_

_Vision shifting, suggesting widened eyes in panic. The realization of a mistake having been made. "I-"_

_A muffled crack. A cry of pain. Blurred surroundings as a big, strong hand yanks the owner of the arm in its grasp up off the ground, holds them in front of a scowling face._

_"If there's one thing worse than a whiny, excuse-making brat, it's a whiny, excuse-making brat that's also a back-talking smartass!_ NEVER _talk back to me again! Understand?!!"_

_Blurred vision, made even blurrier through the movements of rapid, panicked nodding._

_A disdainful 'hmph'. Perspective lowered. Movement; being tugged along. Jolts of pain with each inch of movement. A door opening. Being thrown to the floor. Collision into something big and sturdy from behind. Footsteps leaving. Footsteps returning. A clatter as a basket of cleaning supplies dropping into an immediate line of sight._

_"Honestly." Contempt. Disappointment. "You're so useless! You can't keep expecting others to help you out with the little things! Start learning to do things on your own already!"_

_Footsteps leaving. A slammed door. Darkness. Loneliness._

_Pain._

_Shaking. Sniffling. Assessing the damage. A giant bruise already starting to form. Can't even bend the fingers without paralyzing, debilitating pain. Sniffles becoming hitched, constrained whimpers._

> Don't keep...expecting help...
> 
> Learn to do things...on my own...

Truthfully, all they really knew about their life from before was that they didn't have much in the way of friends, and that they were treated poorly by their parents. But seeing this much, first person through a literal eye-witness account...

Turned out they didn't even know the half of it.

_A kitchen. An up-turned bowl. Spilled contents. Angry yelling. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"_

_Nervous shifting. "I...I didn't mean to-"_

_"But you still did, didn't you?! All I asked was for you to put the milk on the counter, and you managed to ruin the entire meal! I'll have to start over from_ _scratch now! You can't do anything right, can you?!"_

_Trembling. "I-I'm sorry, Mom. I-I'll clean it up-"_

_A hand reaching down to grab an arm. Harsh tugging. "Don't bother." A rough shove into a hallway. "You'll just muck that up, too. Now go to your room so I can clean up_ your mess _in peace."_

_Even worse trembling. "But-But Mom-"_

_"I said GO TO YOUR ROOM!"_

_Cringing. Shrinking. Swiftly turning then running._

_"And stop running in the house!!" heard as a door closes. Hyperventilating. Shuddering. Sliding down a smooth, vertical surface. Tears. Whimpering. Hands covering eyes._

> Can I really not...do anything right...?

Speechless wouldn't even begin to describe the effect this 'peek' into Frisk's pre-Underground life had on the gathered. Toriel especially. To think, she had once been worried she was doing a poor job of being Frisk's guardian and care-taker; her methods may as well be the paragon of perfect parenting compared to the detrimental nature of Frisk's birth parents' methods she and the others were currently witnessing.

And Frisk was so young in these memories. These were the years they must've started really learning and retaining knowledge about the world around them. Were these the beginning days of the abuse? Or was it that this was the earliest they remembered, and it had been going on for much, much longer than these memories implied?

The screens went dark, inducing panic in the first few moments it took before realizing it was only because the newly displayed memory was taking place under cover of night. They listened as hitched, fearful breaths forcefully tried to calm down, to become quieter. It was hard to tell in the lack of light, but there was the distinct impression that the child whose eyes they were looking through was trembling.

> _Don't let him find me._

The words of past-Frisk's inner-most thoughts displayed upon the scanner's screen seemed to be trembling as much as past-Frisk was.

> _Don't let him find m_

Everything became still as a door suddenly opened. The light shining in from the space behind the tall figure standing in the opened doorway shrouded their features in a dark silhouette, but - and it may have just been a trick of the light - a big, besotted smile could be seen upon their face.

" _There_ you are," said an equally besotted voice, and past-Frisk let out a shriek and ran.

They had tried to, at least. The scream had barely escaped their throat, and they hadn't even able to scramble to their feet before a big, strong hand had caught them by the arm, yanking them off the ground and cutting off their scream. Horrified whimpers had replaced it.

"Why are you so scared?" the voice - 'Dad' - asked. "It's only me."

Sans stiffened. That question, that memory in Waterfall, that first-timeline Frisk. That was the one and only time he'd ever asked that question, and doing so - as he recalled - only served to make Frisk's fear exponentially increase.

Was this...was this what Alphys was talking about before? The memory Frisk really, really didn't want to remember? Him asking that question back then, had it triggered this memory into recollection? And remembering that first-timeline memory, re-hearing him ask that question again in the here and now; so that's what triggered this recollection of the time in their life before the Underground.

But then...why this? Why was _this_ the one memory Frisk so strongly didn't want to remember, out of all the several bad ones they've accumulated? It was hard to make out why this was something the kid didn't want to remember, and the dim light within the displayed memory made it hard to tell what was...

...What...was...

.........

...Oh god what was he _doing_ to them?!

_Creaking. Continuous whimpering. "P-Please...stop... It...it hurts..."_

_"Why are you so scared?" More creaking. "Naughty children get punished; that's the rule."_

_"B...B-But I haven't been naughty! I've b-been good all day! All week! I h-haven't done anything-_ Ah _!"_

_"What did I say about talking back?"_

_Quieter, hiccuping whimpers. "P...Pleammpf."_

_"Be quiet."_

_Silence._

_"Just let it happen."_

_Stillness._

_"It'll all be over soon."_

A child's muffled sobs rang out as closing eyes made everything go dark.

> _W h y . . . ?_

The words trembled to the point of practically shaking themselves apart.

> _W h a t   d i d   I   d o   W R O N G ?_

There was a quiet, dry rasp as one of Sans' bony, shaking palms covered his mouth. In the group he was among, he heard others mimicking his actions, heard others give quiet, gasping sobs, heard at least one person dry-retching. Even _Flowey_ looked disturbed.

Though he didn't have one to be sick to, he was thoroughly sick to his stomach. This...this wasn't parenting gone bad. This went beyond disciplinary punishment.

This was vile.

This was cruel.

This was LOVE.

He thought he knew the true extent of human cruelty, thought the timelines he'd endured had exposed him to it all. He thought the only way to have a high Level of Violence was through gaining EXP. But this... _this_...

It was apparent to him now that there was more than one way to earn those stripes.

_Daylight through closed curtains. Sunset. A bedroom. A bed._

I paid good money for a new bed for you - money that could've gone toward food and other necessities - and this is how you repay me!? _Previously yelled words echoing._ By sleeping on the floor!? If you're going to be this ungrateful, maybe I should just make you sleep outside!

_Staring silently. Words churning. Decision making._

_Crawling into bed. Curling up beneath the sheets._

> Mom paid...good money on me...
> 
> I should be grateful...

"...Dr. Alphys... _please_...can't you stop this...?"

Toriel's grimly reverent voice rang out like a solemn dirge, a funeral hymn. Though she was the only one that voiced it, her desires to shut down this 'side-show attraction' were unanimous throughout the group.

"...Wish I...could..."

 Sans finally found it within himself to tear his wide-eyed sights onto something less gargantuan and imposing. Alphys stood nearby, her posture slack as she numbly, continuously, uselessly pressed the POWER button on the universal remote in one of her hands - earlier retrieved from a lab coat pocket. Her wide eyes remained glued to the monolith as she continued to fail in cutting off the feedback the monitors displayed; she looked so numb she probably didn't even notice the waterfalls  streaming down her cheeks.

"Even if...I could cut off our view of these memories...it won't help Frisk..." Her voice was numb, too; too numb to even stammer or squeak. "They were...fighting against themself earlier...against their own subconscious... Their subconscious won...now they're trapped in these memories... Nothing we do can help them now... We can only just...let it..."

There was more than one reason why she let that statement hang. She also let her arm hang, the remote falling from her claws with deafening silence. The waterfalls ran more strongly down her cheeks.

_A sidewalk. Retreating figures. A brown paper bag. Spilled, dirtied, stomped-on food._

You're so selfish! _Previously taunted words echoing._ You think your life is so tragic just because your parents don't give you a big lunch? Boo-hoo for you! Y'know there're some kids out there whose parents NEVER give them lunch! If you can't be grateful your life isn't as bad as those kids, maybe you don't deserve a lunch at all!

_Staring silently. Words churning. Decision making._

_Bending down. Salvaging what remained salvageable_.

> Other people...have it worse than me...
> 
> I should be grateful...

Hearing what little information Frisk had given them before this night about their pre-Underground life, and they found it hard to believe. Were they not witnessing these events through Frisk's eyes, it would have been borderline impossible for any one of them to believe what they were seeing.

Monsters, by nature, were kind, non-violent creatures. They had no jails, for there were never any criminals to arrest and put them into. There had never been any reports of thievery or fights or of a monster killing another monster. That anyone could ever treat another person so horribly was completely unthinkable in monster society.

Oh, how damaging and ignorant a mindset that was.

_A dark room. Lying on the ground. Vision blurred by neon flowers._

You know why we punish you, don't you? _Previously asked words echoing._ Not just because you've been bad, but because we're also toughening you up. We're trying to do you a favor. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, y'know. You'll thank us one day.

_Staring silently. Words churning._

> They're doing me...a favor...
> 
> I should...should be...grateful...

Hate was a sensation Sans rarely - if ever - felt. The most recent - possibly only - time he felt it was during the night of the snowstorm almost two years ago, when he learned everything that nasty little hell spawn had done to hurt and manipulate Frisk.

Truthfully, the hatred he felt that night felt like a petty grudge compared to the deep, dark pit of utter loathing opening up within him this night.

There was another quiet, dry rasp as his fingertips scraped against his skull; the result of the hand over his mouth beginning to clench. Toughening them up? A _favor_? _Grateful_?? _That's_ how these people justified their actions? Their cruelty toward their own child? Their _LOVE_? The hatred burgeoning within him burned fiercely, fiercely enough for it to start burning within his left eye socket.

> I should be...grateful...
> 
> .........
> 
> ...But...

That one word made the burning lessen, made the unwarily-formed scowl upon his face smooth over. 'But'?

> But...no matter how much I try...no matter how much I know I should...I don't. I don't feel grateful. I can't make myself feel grateful at all.
> 
> .................
> 
> ...Does that mean something's wrong with me?

The burning remained, yet it became a muted, forlorn, cold kind of burning.

"...Abso- _fucking_ -lutely NOT!!"

Undyne's fervently enraged voice rang out like a call to arms, breaking the atmosphere of grim reverence as though it was fragile as glass. Glass she wasn't quite done breaking just yet.

"If anything it means you know deep down that your folks are full of _shit_!" A glance to the former Captain showed the still-drying tear stains on her scales standing out against the justifiably furious scowl on her face. "And that you know you didn't deserve _any_ of this!!"

Her anger remained, but a creased brow and slow head shake provided a peek at the devastated heartbreak buried beneath. "You didn't deserve... _any_ of this... No one does..."

_A cafeteria. Congregated figures. Something - a brown paper bag - being snatched away._

_"_ This _is your lunch!?" Scoffing disbelief. "These are table scraps!"_

_"Money's tight right now." A well-rehearsed response, uttered softly and numbly._

_"Ugh! You always say that!" A rough shove, one rough enough to cause the recipient to stumble, but not to fall. "And you know what? You say it so much that I'm starting to believe you've been lying to us this whole time! What d'you guys think?"_

_"Yeah! Totally lying!"_

_"Frisk's a liar!"_

_"You've just been trying to get us to feel sorry for you, haven't you?!"_

_"I bet you just ate most of your lunch before lunchtime! That's why there's barely anything in here now!"_

_Not a single rebuttal offered._

_"Hmph! Well, since you already ate-" A symphony of crinkles and squishes as the bag was crushed - contents and all - into a ball. "-I'll go ahead and do you the favor of throwing your trash away. You're welcome, by the way."_

_Laughter as the ball was dunked into a nearby trash can. Laughter as the congregated dispersed. Distant voices providing background ambiance for silent contemplation. Vision focused on the nearby trash can. The growl of an empty stomach. Decision making. Walking up to and reaching into the tall receptacle's depths._

_Loss of balance. Tripping. Flailing. Falling. Spilling. Rolling. Stillness. Silence._

_A room full of rancorous, roaring laughter._

_"Oh my gosh they actually did it!" and "What a freak!" heard most clearly among the following jeers. Peering helplessly through the surrounding garbage. Continuous laughter. No assistance offered. A head hung in shame._

> They think I'm...a freak...

"No, Frisk..." Asgore's voice was heavy with disbelief and sorrow. "You cannot believe that..."

_A hallway. Soiled clothes. Sitting on a bench. A conversation heard through a barely ajar door._

_"...called their mother. She's on her way now."_

_"How many times has it been now that there's been an incident with that child?"_

_"At least three this month alone." A sigh. "I'm honestly at my wits end with that one. If it's not one thing, it's always another with them."_

_"Has the bullying gotten any better?"_

_A short pause; a head shake felt in it. "The other students always say Frisk is the one that instigates it, and they never seem to take it to heart whenever I tell them that bullying is bad and that they shouldn't do it."_

_"And their grades?"_

_"Bad as ever, I'm afraid. Which is very surprising. They used to do so well; I know they have the potential to do better. But nothing I do or say has reaped any results."_

_Another sigh. The creak of leaning back in a chair. "At this point, I'm starting to believe they're a lost cause."_

_The feeling of shrinking. A head hung in shame._

> They think I'm...a lost cause...

"THA...THAT IS THE SINGLE MOST UNTRUE THING I HAVE EVER HEARD IN MY ENTIRE LIFE!!!" Papyrus' voice cracked and broke in ways unbelievable before now. "NO ONE IS A LOST CAUSE!! LEAST OF ALL YOU, FRISK!! THE ONLY REASON THEY CAME TO THAT CONCLUSION IS BECAUSE THEY DIDN'T TRY HARD ENOUGH TO HELP YOU!! YOU CANNOT BELIEVE ANY OF THESE...THESE _LIES_!!"

_Inside a car. Scenery passing by the windows. The purr of the engine. Other than that, total silence._

_The crushing weight of dread associated with being badly in trouble. Expecting yelling along the lines of "You pulled me out of an important meeting for this!" or even "Stop causing everyone trouble!". Only silence. Silence that only makes the dread worsen._

_Stopping. A seat belt undone. A car door opening, then shutting. Another seat belt undone. Another car door opening, then shutting. Both done in hesitance. Walking. Nervous shaking. A porch. A tall figure holding open a door. Persisting silence. More nervous shaking._

_Pausing within the door frame. Mustering courage. Looking up. "M...Mo-"_

_Grabbing. Shoving. Throwing. Falling. Landing with a scarcely audible gasp._

_"My life doesn't revolve around you." A tight, impatient voice. "Remember that next time you decide to do something stupid."_

_A door closing. Creaking hinges not loud enough to drown out under-the-breath murmuring: "You're enough of a burden already."_

_A door closed. A lock locking. Darkness. Loneliness. A head hung in shame._

> I'm...a burden...

"No...you are not!" Toriel's voice trembled with horror and heartache. "You are many things, Frisk - a great many, wonderful things - but you are most certainly not a burden! You can't...You just cannot believe that..."

_A darkened room. Nighttime. Stillness. The illusion of sleep._

_A door opening. Light bathing in. A tall shadow silhouetting against the opposite wall. Stiffness. Recognition. Realization._

_Acceptance._

> ...Whatever I did...

_Entering footsteps._

> ...Even if I didn't do anything...

_A door closing._

> I deserve this.

_Darkness._

"No...y-you don't..." Alphys' voice remained as numb as before, but it seemed her stammer had returned. "N-No one deserves this... You c-can't honestly believe you... _repeatedly_...d-deserved this..."

> But...why?

_"You're just a waste of oxygen!"_

>  What is it about me that people...don't like?

_"Who'd ever want to be friends with you?!"_

> Won't someone just...come out and say...

_"Just die already you worthless screw-up!!"_

> What they find _wrong_ with me???

_"HAVING YOU WAS THE BIGGEST MISTAKE OF MY ENTIRE LIFE!"_

The flow of memories cascaded, uninterrupted, one after the other in a linear - presumably, for it was near impossible to track the time that passed between each one - fashion. Until now, that is. Now, with that one statement still lingering like the stench of rotting flesh, the flow stopped. The cascade froze on the memory associated with that last statement; the view of which mostly overtaken by the silhouette of a tall, looming figure radiating anger and spite. Not to mention, the view seemed so sharply in focus that it was out of focus.

They realized - before the prompted text that next appeared on the scanner confirmed it - that this memory was one in which past-Frisk had an earth-shattering revelation.

> I get it now.
> 
> Finally...I finally get it now.
> 
> Why they yell at me... Why they deny me food... Why they hit me... Why nothing I do ever seems to please them... Why they... Why she... Why he...
> 
> It's because...in their eyes...
> 
> I'll never be anything to them...but a mistake.
> 
> That's what...I've always been...
> 
> ...........
> 
> ...And that's all I'll ever be.

That thought alone made the floodgates burst. "Dammit Frisk! Don't listen to them!!"

"Do not believe such lies and slander, Frisk!"

"YOU ARE NOT A MISTAKE, FRISK!! NO ONE IS!!!"

"My child, please, none of that is true!!"

"I-I k-know it sucks to f-feel that way, Frisk, b-but absolutely none of that is true at all!!"

"Frisk!"

"Frisk!"

"FRISK!"

"Frisk!"

"F-Frisk!"

Only one among those desperately crying out kept his head above the waves of denial submerging the others. For he knew. He knew full well the uselessness of it all. They knew it, too. And knowing how deeply in denial they all were made it hurt that much worse once they, eventually, collectively resurfaced and, heartbreaking as it was, joined him in silence as the 'show' went on.

> This is...most likely how everyone else sees me, too...
> 
> This is why...no one ever wants to be friends with me...

How very pointless it all was, to think that calling out to them in the here and now would change past-Frisk's mind. This all happened a long time ago, long before any of them could do anything about it.

> Why my teachers...always think I'm a lost cause...

He knew it was pointless to deny it. He knew it was pointless to think yelling a few words of encouragement would alter what had already been done.

> Why my parents...treat me the way they do...

...But...

> ......

...Still...

> ...Might as well make it easier for them.

Sans just could not believe the hell Frisk went through long before the hell he had a hand in putting them through.

> Never expect anyone's help. Do things on my own. Don't bother anyone with my petty problems. Others have it worse than me, after all.

At such a young age...to have such a mindset so thoroughly ingrained into them.

> Speak only when spoken to. Otherwise, stay quiet. Nobody ever wants my input anyway.

To never know anything other than LOVE for as early as they could remember.

> Don't show my emotions. Don't let them know I'm upset or afraid. That just...that just makes it worse.

To be conditioned to expect unspeakable cruelty if ever they showed fear.

> Don't let them know I know they're trying to trick me. That just makes it worse.

To never have been offered a kind or encouraging word.

> Don't talk back. Don't fight back. Be perfectly obedient.

To condition themself to be nothing less than perfectly accommodating, so much so they made themself completely accepting of the LOVE they constantly endured.

> There's no point in fighting back, anyway.

To never have anyone show them that they didn't have to accept this cruelty.

> No point in trying to get others to listen to me.

To never try to understand that for themself.

> No point at all.

To have the very core of their life centered around shame; shame for wanting their voice to be heard.

> Nothing I ever do or say will ever change anything.

Shame for being themself.

> I can never change anything.

Shame for _existing_.

> There's no point in trying anymore.

Before this night, it was unanimously believed that it could not be true; that someone could ever be so virtually... _alone_.

> I should just go with it.

But true, it cruelly remained.

> Just let it happen.

This was the state of Frisk's soul before they came to the Underground.

> J u s t
> 
> g i v e
> 
> u p .

And nothing, not even another reset, would ever change this.

_A classroom. Sitting. Staring down at hands neatly folded in a lap. A passing conversation._

_"...nna hear something interesting I heard during summer vacation?"_

_"Sure! But if it's another juicy gossip story about something your parents did-"_

_"It's nothing like that this time! It's actually about a legend I heard about a mountain where people never come back from!"_

Almost simultaneously, those presently gathered, and the past person whose eyes they peered through, perked up.

_"Whoa...really?"_

_"Yup. Locals called the place Mount...Ibont or something like that? Anyway, they all kept saying how the mountain is bad luck and stuff, because the old legend_ _everyone and their goldfish knew was about how travelers who climb the mountain are said to disappear without a trace."_

_"Dude... Do you think it's true?"_

_"Heck no! My guess is that the locals're hiding something cool up there, and they didn't want any outsiders trespassing and messing the place up!"_

_"Did you try going there?"_

_"Wanted to. Almost did. But my parents caught me and..."_

They listened as footsteps retreated. They watched as the view remained on small, neatly folded hands.

Though no words narrating past-Frisk's innermost thoughts were prompted, they could practically hear the cogs of thought begin to turn.

_A library. A secluded corner. Piles of books towering. A yellow-paged book laying open. An illustrated photograph of a large, imposing mountain. A caption beneath it: Mt. Ebott._

_Paragraphs of text. Vision mainly focused on one:_

> _Legends surrounding the enigmatic Mt. Ebott date as far back as before [XXXX], when oral stories began to be recorded on paper. One such legend tells of a race of creatures that lived alongside us humans called MONSTERS who, for their fearsome powers, were banished and sealed within the mountain. Another such legend details more of a warning than the beginnings of a fairy tail; that those who climb the mountain never return. Such legends may attribute to the reason so very little is known about this geographical feature itself; fear is a very powerful incentive, after all. Or maybe, the reason for the sparsity of knowledge about Mt. Ebott is due to myth being more than that? That some foolhardy soul defied the warnings, and never returned to tell of their findings?_
> 
> _Such speculations are for another time, for someone more philosophical to dissect. Though little is known about the mountain, such cannot be said for the forested area surrounding it..._

The words 'those who climb the mountain never return' appeared to stand out more than any of the others. They could almost hear the cogs churning as they watched a small hand reach for and open what appeared to be an atlas.

_Shrubbery. Hiding. Peeking in through a window. Watching a classroom. Waiting from morning to afternoon. Observing no significant change to the goings-on within._

Felt as though the cogs churned more fiercely.

_Shrubbery. Hiding. Peeking in through a window. Watching a living room. Waiting from nightfall to daybreak. Observing no significant change to the goings-on within._

It was as though they were standing within kissing distance to the inner machinations of a clock tower the turning of cogs felt so loud.

Then, as the next memory presented itself for their 'viewing pleasure', everything fell silent as the grave.

This memory presented a crossroads. Literal and figurative, as was quickly deduced. To the left, there was the distinct impression of the familiar. To the right, the unknown. The view through past-Frisk's eyes slowly looked back and forth between the two paths, considered each one thoughtfully. Left... right... left.....right...... Left........

> ...Sorry for burdening you with my existence.

They watched as the view through past-Frisk’s eyes turned, and pursue the other direction.

They watched as scenery constantly changed. Watched rural towns become skyscraper-filled cities. Watched open fields turn to thickly forested areas. Watched bright, sunny midday change to dark, moonless night. Watched cloudless skies open to torrential downpours. Watched as shady tree-lined sidewalks became littered with crunchy red and orange leaves. Watched as countless upon countless of faceless faces passed by. All the while, there was never the implication of slowing down or stopping. Only constantly moving forward at a well-defined, even, determined pace.

It was pondered and speculated long before this night, but bearing witness of Frisk's journey to the Underground through their eyes, and that thought-provoking question silently resurfaced:

How far did they run?

The scenery changed again, and the gathered found themselves cringing. Though it was a sight most were only relatively recently exposed to, the shape of that geographical landmark in the distance, which was slowly, steadily growing bigger as distance was lessened, was unmistakable. Though they've long since known the end result, exposure to the chain of events that lead Frisk to this outcome made the reason they climbed the mountain that much more heartbreaking.

Darkness blotted the screens, but it was an incomplete darkness. Around the outer monitors, edges of a rocky terrain hug the darkness, making it clearly apparent what they were looking at, why the darkness seemed so dark and unfathomable. The only sound that was heard was the haunting melody of whistling wind.

The sudden, sibilant buzz of static gave everyone a small shock, which persisted as more static lightly coated the screens like a veil. The audible hiss rose and fell in pitch as something started pushing through the visual veil, something attempting to replace what was seen through past-Frisk's eyes. Static completely overpowered the screens for a brief moment, and then...

Another ripple of breathless gasps rang out. Now _there's_ a more familiar sight.

" _Frisk_..."

It was as though they were all standing just within the darkness' periphery, staring up through it at the human standing there, facing the darkness in a way that almost perfectly returned the invisible stare. A human child wearing well-worn black boots, long blue shorts, and a blue, purple-stripped long-sleeved shirt. A young human child with nothing to their name, save for the clothes on their back, the gross bandage barely clinging to the skin on the back of one hand, and what appeared to be what was left of a snapped walking stick tucked into their back pocket. A small, young human child with short, disheveled brown hair that shifted slightly in the faint breeze, and a somewhat sunken-in face that seemed to be perpetually fixed into a completely neutral expression.

 _This_ was the version of Frisk they were all more used to seeing. Almost a perfect replica to the image that popped into their mind whenever they thought of Frisk. Almost, but not completely. There was felt a profound difference between this Frisk and the Frisk they knew. It wasn't until they saw their eyes that they saw where the nuance resided.

Theirs were eyes that have never been a-lit with even the smallest spark of hope. Theirs were eyes that have never envisioned any dreams to pursue. Theirs were eyes that have never known love.

There was determination in them, yes, but it seemed Alphys would have to revisit her definition of that mysterious force.

For their eyes were those without the will to live.

> This world doesn't want me.

"No..."

> This world never wanted me.

"No...Frisk..."

> To this world, I'm nothing.

"DON'T...DON'T SAY THAT..."

> Nothing but a burden.

"No...please..."

> A nuisance, a freak, a lost cause, a waste of oxygen, a worthless screw-up, a useless, whiny, excuse-making, ungrateful brat.

"N-No..."

> A mistake.

"... _kid_..."

Stillness and silence. The wind's haunting melody had come to a close.

There was a soft scrape as past-Frisk inched a step forward.

> I am a mistake.

Another as the other foot followed.

> And what do you do with mistakes?

There was a hiss of static as the monolith began to flip-flop between past-Frisk's point of view, and the unknown, frankly impossible spectator's point of view, and another and another with each switch between perspectives.

> You erase them.

They watched as they walked ever closer to the ledge.

> Erase them.

They watched as a single piece of rubble was unintentionally sent into the abyss.

> Erase...

They watched as they stopped with the toes of their boots hovering over the edge.

> Erase...

They watched as they became still.

> ERASE...

They watched as one viewpoint went completely black, while the other showed eyes slowly closing.

> _ERASE_...!

"frisk _no_ -!"

And they watched, in powerless despair, as the figurative strings of will were severed, and Frisk fell.

> _E r a s e ._

 

 

** Part III **

 

   

Pointless.

It was completely pointless to think he, or anyone else in the here and now, could alter the unchangeable.

...And yet, nihilistic in nature that it was, that _he_ was, Sans found himself numbered among all that had shot their arms out toward the monolith, reaching out to stop someone they loved very dearly from literally throwing their life away. Had the perspective been different, and a darker mindset adopted, it probably would've looked as though the six extended arms were what had pushed them over the edge.

So that was it. That's how it happened. It all made sense now. Always putting others' needs before their own. Always shouldering the guilt even when there was little to none to shoulder at all. Always retaining that residual fear to share their thoughts and feelings. Being selfless to the point of being a complete doormat. Feeling completely undeserving of anything emotionally healthy. Of anything other than spite and hatred. Of anything remotely good for them at all.

Every self-destructive tendency and worrisome idiosyncrasy. All of it; it didn't start being a thing after everything that happened to them in the Underground. It could all be attested to the life they lived _before_ their times in the Underground. Shunned, harassed, endlessly bullied by their peers; so much so they became completely disenchanted to the idea of trying to make friends. Neglected, abused, traumatized by those two people in their life who were supposed to love, encourage,  _nurture_ them; those two people who were, to a child as young as they were back then, were the kid's whole _world_. It was in there that lied the root of the problem, one so deeply ingrained there was little to no chance of ever completely removing it.

No wonder Chara chose Frisk.

They were _perfect_.

...Well speak of the devil.

Frisk's fall had plunged the monolith and room into silent darkness once more. After what felt to be tortuous hours had passed, at least one of those things was banished, but not entirely. After a brief intermission of static, visual and audible, the monitors were still mostly dark, but the splashes of color painting the newly displayed memory made everyone's arms retract, Sans' especially with lightning-quick reflexes. It also made four pairs of eyes light up with recognition, one pair among the rest a-lit without the slightest hint of warmth.

The curtain of static had opened to a scene of Frisk, lying face down and unconscious in a golden flower bed, barely moving at all and blanketed in an eerie crimson light. The origin of this light came from the thin red outline of a heart - the kind a kindergartner would learn to draw - that hovered over them. That sickly, bloody color stood out like a flame amid the surrounding darkness, and shed strange highlights onto the semi-transparent face materialized behind the heart. The way the light shone on this youthful face made the way its blood-red eyes studiously stared at the fallen child intuitive, almost playfully curious.

Maybe it was because it was a face they hadn't seen in a very long time. Maybe it was because that face was of someone they dearly loved, once upon a time. Whatever the reason, after everything they had just witnessed, seeing that pale, rosy-cheeked, smiling face was as blissfully refreshing as a cold drink of water on a hot summer's day. At least, for three out of four that had immediately recognized that scruffy-haired child upon the screens.

Flowey's stem straightened. Asgore's eyes became misty. The corners of Toriel's mouth twitched up into a smile. She reached for the monolith once again. "Char-"

Barely an inch of advancement was made before Toriel froze, and her face broke like thin ice. Asgore's, too. Even whatever had manifested in Flowey and appeared on his face cracked like porcelain. Like a sledgehammer to stained glass, so shattered their ephemeral - in hindsight, foolishly conceived - joy.

The transparent child's smile had widened to impossible lengths; it tore through the surrounding skin as though it was thin and fragile as tissue paper. A sludge-like, inky blackness oozed out of this torn, twisted smile; the same which began to leak from the giant, gauged-out holes that replaced the big red eyes. Nothing about the child was anything close to resembling innocent and curious anymore. The smile had become feral, the stare predatory; even the 'heart' had fashioned itself to bear more resemblance to open jaws filled with blood-coated fangs than a razor-thin outline of what it had once been.

It was easy to see now, how one could deign the epithet 'demon' to this darkness-bleeding entity they observed on the screens. Even more so when it spoke; its tainted voice slithering into their ears and constricting the very cores of their beings:

   " _ **Y o u ' r e   g o i n g   t o   b e   a   g r e a t   p a r t n e r .**_ "

There wasn't even enough time to blink. The 'fangs' lunged forward with speed outracing a cobra's strike. There wasn't a sound - not even the smallest rustle of plant life or the faintest breath of wind - as the predatory entity closed in. Frisk hadn't even twitched.

And then.

Just like that.

It was done.

The parasite had infected its unaware, un-consenting, unwilling host.

The clandestine collusion, which catalyzed the incorrigible corruption of spacetime, had commenced.

As Sans watched, in utter disgust, a thought crossed his mind. Someone, whoever's eyes they must've been looking through right now, had observed this infestation as it took place. They must've done so completely undetected; it was highly doubtful the demon would've acted if it knew an outside party was watching.

These observations spurned another thought, this one far more accusatory: If whoever this was had been present when the possession took place, why hadn't they done anything to stop it?

Finally, there was sound as the withered husk of a soul seeped deeper into Frisk, movement in the form of subtle writhing and twitching directly underneath Frisk's skin as the intruding consciousness got settled in. Surely, the sound would've matched the squirming beneath their skin (that alone making the skin - or equivalents thereof - of those watching crawl), but it did not. It was a sound difficult to place; if a similarity had to be drawn, the reverberating sound a cymbal made after striking it would've come close to describing it. It built up slowly, steadily, growing louder as it continued instead of softer, as the reverberations that follow a cymbal's crash often do.

It kept growing louder as the parasite settled into its host. Even louder as Frisk finally showed signs of life. Louder still as Frisk got to their feet, their movements incredibly stiff. Loud to the point of pain-inducing-

Only the building sound of the cymbal was heard. What was seen, however, made the gathered wince as thought there was a sudden clap of thunder. The view upon the monolith had fractured. Once, twice, thrice, innumerable was how many times the view became fractions of the same scene. It spread across the monolith like a virus, the reverberating noise growing ever louder.

As the fractal view spread out across the entirety of the monolith, the darkness and splashes of color within that one spot in the Ruins gave way to a bright, steadily growing brighter, white light. The cymbal-like reverberation became the buzz of static. Black snow danced erotically among the blinding sea of whiteness. The gathered feared deafness and blindness once again.

And then-

 _"-ves to appear witho-"_  
_"-cient fusi-"_  
_"-WO ARE WEI-"_  
_"-sy when you've lived thro-"_  
_"-ust be a total ne-"_  
_"-o easily defeateeeeeeee-"_

-the previous pandemonium returned, with as much nonsensical chaos as before.

 _"-ngy with their mo-"_  
_"-YBONES BE BYBO-"_  
_"-ve doing absolu-"_  
_"-e only one with that po-"_  
_"-ats up everyo-"_  
_"-pe he shows u-"_

Sans understood why this time. The instant what was left of Chara's soul fully integrated itself with Frisk's; _that_ was where the resets would always begin. That one defining moment spawned the varying timelines that were now displayed for everyone's 'viewing pleasure', were it at all possible to stay focused on one event within the maddening multitude for more than a second.

Understanding why did not help in the slightest to ease the anxious discomfort growing within him. Was there no way to end this? To quell the chaos? Was Frisk to remain trapped within their memories until the memories completely ripped their soul apart? Were he and the others all to remain powerless sentinels until this happened? Was fate destined to be so cruel?

"...I got it...I got it! I-I know how we can help Frisk!!"

No, it seemed. At least not tonight.

 _"-ll it with co-"_  
_"-ead because of yo-"_  
_"-re strong enou-"_  
_"-ember my na-"_  
_"-ve to try it so-"_  
_"-asm isn't funn-"_

Their woes and fears forgotten for the time being, the gathered monsters all tore their eyes away from the monolith to look at Alphys with a start, who had hastened back to her computer desk with urgent aplomb.

"Th-The major issue is that they're remembering too much all at once, right?" she explained unprompted as she retrieved her discarded keyboard. "If I c-can just get them to focus on one memory again, th-then at least that'll reduce the risk of their soul being ripped apart!"

"How're you gonna get them to focus on just one of these memories though?" Undyne asked as Alphys began typing commands into the keyboard. "Besides, uh, y'know..."

What Undyne hinted at didn't need to be spelled out any more than it already had been. Alphys' typing flow slowed only momentarily - she had briefly cringed - before it was renewed at a subtly quicker pace. "Try to think about it as two radios. One is Frisk's soul, the other the 'impostor'. They're both trying to settle on the same airwave, but t-too many are coming at them all at once that they're at odds about which one to stay channeled into."

She paused briefly, and looked over to the others to assess their expressions. "A-Am I making sense? All this static got me thinking about an un-tuned car stereo, and this is the best analogy I can come up with without g-going too technical about it. Actually, i-it's almost a little scary how fitting an analogy it is."

Nods both understanding and agreeing rippled throughout the gathered. "So you are proposing we...'tune' these radios?" suggested Asgore.

Alphys nodded, and returned to her work. "The only 'r-radio' we really have any influence over is Frisk's. Thanks to the connection the scanner has with their soul, I can view all the different 'airwaves' on my computer here. What I'm gonna do is, basically, pick a station and see if the signal's strong enough for both of them to settle on. With any luck, it'll be one that shows a happy memory..."

 _"-E'S NOT HE-"_  
_"-out her distur-"_  
_"-o on witho-"_  
_"-e and bring i-"_  
_"-OW MUCH YOU RE-"_  
_"-ing on people wh-"_

"AND WHAT OF THE OTHER 'RADIO'?" Papyrus inquired.

Alphys shrugged, too focused on her work for the gesture to be anything but absentminded. "If I can get Frisk to focus on one memory, my guess - my _hope_ - is that the second radio will adjust itself to match the wavelength I pick out on Frisk's end. By helping one, we help the other, too. I mean, the 'impostor's getting assaulted by all these memories, too. I r-really can't imagine remembering all this all at once is any more pleasant for the 'impostor' than it is for Frisk."

She, along with most of the others, stole a glance at the couch. During their recollection of memories from long before, Frisk's body had remained in the same position; spine straightened, limbs limp, head rolled back, mouth ajar, eyes glossy and unfocused. The static they all associated with the impostor had covered them thinly, like a faint layer of frost. As the view of that one pivotal moment that spurned the beginnings of every explored possibility fractured, the static surrounding Frisk lurched, expanded, tried to be in five- ten- countless places all at once. Frisk's body had also lurched, returning to almost the exact same position as when the gathered first noticed how the memory recollection was affecting them. They were still suffering from it, their screams drowned out by the dissonant voices assaulting everyone's ears.

 _"-OOD ENOU-"_  
_"-fer you a gla-"_  
_"-en a lot more iner-"_  
_"-eady wasted my enti-"_  
_"-dition to put pre-"_  
_"-uch a tur-"_

"...And what then?" gravely questioned Toriel. "What will be done once they both settle on the same memory, Dr. Alphys?"

The scientist didn't even look up. "...We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," she answered in an equally grave voice. "For now, I just wanna make sure Frisk's soul stays in one piece."

"Then get on with it!!" Flowey's whispering yell urged, his voice and visage returned to its previous distortion. "Who knows how much more they can take?!"

The demanding, cantankerous tone left little to be desired, but Flowey was right. Who knew how much more of this barrage Frisk's soul could handle before the irreparable was dealt? And yet, if only for a brief moment, Alphys hesitated. There was a lot riding on the plan she had just concocted, so much to lose if it ended in failure. Would it work? Would she be able to help Frisk? Or would her interference just cause another turn for the worse?

...Well. Only one way to find out.

"Okay." She inhaled deeply, and picked out an 'airwave' to tune into. "Here goes nothing."

Save for the cacophony the monolith produced, there was complete silence as Alphys worked. Each keystroke and knob turn made with adroit, careful motions, her eyes remained glued to the computer to detect even the smallest of changes caused by her actions. It was impossible to tell what the 'airwave' she had picked out and tuned into contained; she had only known the one that triggered the memories from long before was one they didn't want to remember because of how powerful and all-encompassing its 'airwave' had appeared in the data stream on her computer screen.

Purposefully picking out one among the rest was tricky, delicate business. Forget about finding a needle in a haystack; this was more along the lines of trying to find a single grain of rice out of thousands upon thousands whilst standing in the middle of a mine field. So many similarities and redundancies, yet so many differentials and nuances; there was no telling which grain would reap the best results. Not to mention that the longer it took, the higher the risk of setting a 'mine' off became.

The one she had chose to start with was one that wasn't exactly redundant, but appeared to remain constant even amidst the discord. She thought, perhaps, that tuning into this 'station' would have the best chance to bring order to the chaos, stabilize Frisk's soul before it was torn asunder. This memory looked the most promising.

Yet, there was something very... _curious_ about the way this memory appeared on her screen, compared to the way the others did. Something almost unsettling-

"It's working...! It is working!"

Hope, a necessity buried and forgotten after all they had witnessed within the hour alone, was welcomed like a breath of fresh air. It gave Alphys a start, made her look back over her shoulder to see that precious commodity not only within Toriel's voice, but spreading across everyone's faces. She looked to where they were all staring, and found that hope reaching her, too. The voices and memories sounded and looked as though they were lasting longer. In the cluster of monitors in the center of the monolith, seemed as though the memories were pooling together, steadily staying focused on one constant among the madness. Even Frisk upon the couch looked to be in less pain; the static around them gesticulated less erratically as well.

Alphys smiled for what felt like the first time in centuries. It was small, but proud and satisfied. " _Yes_ ," she whisper-cheered to herself, but her work could not stop there. All she had really done so far was narrow down the millions of possibilities to a few hundred thousand; cleared the airways a bit, so to speak. More time for celebration could be afforded after the 'mine field' was diffused, the immediate threat nullified.

"You got this, babe!" encouraged Undyne as Alphys returned to her tuning. "You so totally got thi-"

  Sad, isn't it?

That one ounce of hope shared across the group evaporated like a tiny drop of water on a hot skillet. Alphys was startled so badly, she dropped the keyboard onto the desk and scrambled backwards into Undyne. She was too startled to let out even a squeak. Her wife caught her, but had little to offer in terms of comfort. She was too alert and on edge, her head turning this way and that and her expression acutely fierce.

Though their expressions showed more confusion than the former captain's, the rest of the gathered were also looking among themselves and the room around them, their gazes searching and stupefied. Who...Who said that?

  This world was supposed to be different.

There it was again. Words coming from nowhere, yet from so deep inside they might've very well been their own thoughts. Words seeping in and intruding upon the inner sanctums of their consciousnesses. There was no tone, no pitch, no voice at all. The words were just...there. Voiceless, dying echoes lingering in an otherwise silent hall.

  The locations, the people; on the outside, sure, they _look_ different.

Dying echoes lingering in an otherwise silent hall; why did they draw that analogy to describe this phenomenon?

  But you know, don't you?

Where had they...heard that before...?

  You know, deep down...

If the revelation hadn't been so morbid, each of them would've kicked themselves for not realizing it sooner.

_"I remember...a voice. I wouldn't really call it a voice, though. More like the last dying echo of one lingering in an otherwise silent hall. It was always there, in the back of my mind. It was almost always whispering. Whispering dark, horrible things..."_

Essentially, though the view was multi-faceted, Alphys' actions had opened a window to view Frisk's soul. The gathered watched Frisk's past through their eyes, saw events unfold exactly as Frisk remembered them. Currently, they were all 'tuned in' to the period of Frisk's life which had been repeated countless times on the whims of the intruding consciousness they had recently witnessed begin its intrusion. So, really, it would stand to reason that, if it was so easy to tune into the memories of Frisk's repeated journeys through the Underground...

  Things down here are no different than they are up there, are they?

...then it would be just as easy to tune into the 'partner' that had seen and remembered precisely as much as Frisk did of their repeated journeys through the Underground.

" _Chara._ "

No sooner had Toriel breathed their name that the buzz of static cut her off. This one, however, sounded different than the usual sibilant screeches they were used to. It sounded deeper, darker, almost like a growl. The center twenty-or-so screens of the monolith went dark and silent for a full second, while the surrounding screens still had havoc to be wrought. Upon the couch, the static froze in a very odd, formless posture. Frisk themself did not appear quite so strained, but still looked to be screaming.

It was easy to put all this on the back burner; the darkened screens had come alive again, showing one singular image split only by the physical divisions between the monitors. The scene was painted in a mainly purple color pallet, making the back of the tall, white-furred monster the 'camera' faced stick out like a sore thumb.

   _"...go to your room."_

A tight, thin voice issuing a tight, thin command. It rose above the polyphonic pandemonium like a preacher calling all to attention before beginning the sermon. It echoed, as though a thousand duplicates of that same voice were issuing that command at the same time.

They were just imagining it; that impossible second voice with as much crushing command as the first yelling within the first's echoes:

   _"I said GO TO YOUR ROOM!"_

Despite years of royal conditioning to always hold her ground and her head high, Toriel meekly shrank back.

Another growl of static, another change in scenery. This time, a snowy terrain blanketed by heavy fog. The shadow of the tall, obscured figure looming overhead reaching a gloved hand toward the 'camera', prideful cackles still lingering in the air.

Just an illusion created by the fog; that split second shift from the bony figure in the fog to one far more fleshy, but just as tall and twice as intimidating.

Hubris was a core element of his persona, but there wasn't even a sliver of pride about Papyrus as he stepped back, cringing.

Another growl, another scene. A dark, craggy area with the sound of rushing water beneath a wide bridge. A tall figure clad in armor raining spears the size of bullets down at the 'camera'.

_"Honestly, I'm doing you a favor..."_

Collectively hearing things; that explained the way previously reasoned words were interlaced within the echoes:

   _"We're trying to do you a favor."_

Justice was something she was proud to say she had an abundance of, but Undyne felt like moral-less scum as her one slitted pupil dilated, her unfocused gaze turning to the ground.

More static, more change. A darkened room accented by neon blue lights along the floor. A tall, rectangular figure balancing on a wheel, every one of its screens bathing blood red light upon the 'camera'.

   _"Alphys has been playing you for a fool the whole time."_

Definitely hearing things; how taunts spoken in cruel mockery were implied with the same strain of unmasked deception:

   _"Who'd ever want to be friends with you?!"_

There were several things in her past that she felt guilty about, yet those felt, if only for the moment, like nothing compared to the surge of shame and horror washing over Alphys now as she shrank back, trembling.

More growling, different scenery. A tall, horned figure facing the 'camera', the strange lighting in the room and the way golden hair hung down creating the illusion as though the figure wore a big, cruel smile.

Surely just a trick of the light; how for the most fleeting of moments, a different big, cruel smile replaced the illusioned one.

Several were the things he had done that he was not proud of, and seeing one of those moments through another's eyes made the top of Asgore's list as he unwarily stepped back, a paw reaching up to cover his mouth.

One more growl of static, one more change of scenery. Blue walls and floors damp with water, a smiling figure facing the 'camera', short in stature but appearing much taller due to the angle the 'camera' was positioned in.

There was no point in denying that there were two voices - the only difference residing in tone - saying the exact same thing at the exact same time:

_"Why are you so scared?"_

And another reminder of what he had unknowingly done served only to make Sans' pupils black out, his jaw clench tightly and the bone around his sockets crease to express deep, profound horror and remorse.

  This world was supposed to be different. This world was supposed to be your escape from the one above.

As Sans recalled, the demon had claimed - _boasted_ \- that it had been easy to make Frisk do what it wanted in the first few timelines. He thought that had only been because it had always been a constant presence, what with being firmly latched onto their very soul since the beginning. Viewing the events leading up to Frisk's fall made it easier for him to understand what it had meant. But it wasn't until now, with him experiencing what it must've been like when Frisk experienced this extent of 'Chara's influence, that he finally saw the big picture.

  If anything, coming here has only proved that, no matter where you go, nothing will ever change. You'll never be able to escape.

Their life from before created the initial cracks in their soul. Cracks that made it possible for the demon to worm its way into and impose its will and desires onto them. What he failed to realize before now was that, his and the others' actions toward the kid, even since that very first timeline...

  That's really, really sad. Tragic, even. Don't you think?

They had provided the tools necessary for furthering 'Chara's dark ambitions to overpower and completely control its 'partner'.

  And yet, for all their similarities, you've seen that there are _some_ differences, haven't you?

Barely starting to recover from the memories that felt more like personal attacks, the gathered had no time to rest before more growling static caused every screen, not just those congregated in the monolith's center, to go black. The static around Frisk lurched and posed formlessly once again; Frisk themself showed only the slightest amount of change, not appearing quite as in pain as previously.

  That world never wanted you. This world, however...

A split-second later, and a new scene was displayed. As with before, the center monitors became a multi-screen view of the same point-of-view, while the outer ones showed unrelated events. This time, however, the screens immediately surrounding the center ones displayed the same scenery, yet from different points of view.

  This world wants you, alright.

This scene was bathed in subdued whiteness. New Home sprawled out beyond the outlook the center 'camera' faced, the surrounding ones positioned and focused haphazardly on the scene. The blue and purple of the stripped-shirt worn by the small human treading down the carved alabaster stone stood out like a beacon on the outer rim of screens, and in the center, the colorful array of monsters flanking either side of the path the 'camera' pursued exuded the somber presence of a funeral procession as they all smiled at each other, and at the human walking through them.

  It wants you to _die_.

    _"It's not long now." The monsters smiled._

_The human moved forward, their pace quickening the slightest bit._

_"King Asgore will let us go."_

_"King Asgore will give us hope."_

_"King Asgore will save us all." The monsters kept smiling._

_The human kept moving forward, hastening from a slow march to a brisk power walk._

_"You should be smiling, too." The monsters' smiles were completely immobile._

_The human's pace quickened to a jog._

_"Aren't you happy?"_

_The human's pace quickened to a sprint._

_"Aren't you excited?"_

_The human was practically running. They almost tripped over themself in order to stop themself from tromping over a single Froggit that had jumped out in front of_ _them. One last monster, one last smiling face; the two stared at each other as one last message of hope was issued:_

_"You're going to be free."_

_The human did not run, but walked slowly, calmly, steadily away. Through the open archway leading into the corridor beyond bathed in golden light and shadows. And it_ _was only just within the hall's boundaries, tucked away from any and all prying eyes, that the human stumbled into the nearest wall._

 _Their breaths turned heavy and shuddering. Conflict broke out across their turned-pale face. One hand grasped at the wall they leaned against, vainly searching for a_ _firm hand hold. The other grasped at the front of their shirt, tightly bunching up the fabric near the center of their chest._

_Though it looked like they would start crying, though it looked like they wanted to do nothing more, they did not shed even a single tear._

Perhaps their attentions being collectively seized by the multiple views of the same memory had numbed them to it, but it took longer than they care to admit to realize that the events unfolding in the monitors not focused on the one memory were, truthfully, not that unrelated at all.

 _"You know what would be more valuable to everyone? IF YOU WERE DEAD!!!"_  
_"I WAS THE ONE THAT HIRED EVERYONE TO KILL YOU!"_  
_"on days like these, kids like you..."_  
_"Every human who falls down here must die."_  
_"In this world, it's kill or BE killed."_  
_"Should be burning in hell."_

Words pushing through in complete statements, memories displayed with minimal amounts of chaos; those monitors that were not focused on the memory of New Home announced numerous death threats, or otherwise displayed countless scenes in which monsters of all walks of life acting out on those threats. All coincided with the intrusive thoughts 'Chara' had put into past-Frisk's head.

Thoughts which, sadly sufficient to say, were not at all entirely baseless.

  It's why you came here, remember? You came here to die.

Another bout of darkness engulfed the center screens, allowing a new memory to surface. This one found everyone gazing upon a violet-schemed setting ablaze with orbs of magical fire volleyed toward the center 'camera', toward the small human the outer ones displayed. They watched the battle ensue, watched the bombardment rain down upon the human, watched the human move only defensively, never offensively, watched their attacker look through them as the assault continued unwaveringly. The human's movements were getting more sluggish by the second.

  And you can't even do that right.

A stray fire ball. A stumbling misstep. Then, just like that-

  Can you?

Toriel, both past and present, gasped in horror, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. Save for the small red heart, which broke in half before violently shattering into indefinable, irreparable pieces that soon faded away, the center screens became dark and empty. The immediately surrounding ones observed the human falling backwards, their body limp and covered in scorch marks. As past-Toriel staggered forward, reaching out for the human in vain desperation, the outer screens displayed similar scenes; battles ending with screens going dark and showing only a small red heart shattering, or otherwise showing a small body falling, broken, bruised, and bloodied.

 _"You cannot give up just yet..."_  
_"Don't lose hope!"_  
_"You're going to be alright!"_  
_"Our fate rests upon you..."_  
_"It cannot end now!"_

Asgore found himself stumbling backwards a step. That...that didn't make any sense. He had never said such things to Frisk. He wasn't anywhere near them in these memories when he and the others heard his voice calling out to them. And to hear this whenever they... This didn't make a lick of-

_"Chara! Stay determined..."_

...Ah. Now it did.

They expected something along the lines of pausing the movie in the middle of a scene, then rewinding it to an earlier point in the plot. They were, in a sense, watching the movie of Frisk's life, after all. But no. Such a phenomenon did not take place as they witnessed what Frisk must have experienced whenever a reset - a small one, at least - took place. The darkness of the center screens persisted as Asgore's calls finished echoing, and then, just like that...

_A gasping breath rang out as the human stumbled backwards, then tripped and landed flat on their rear. Crisp red leaves crinkled beneath them as they fell, their head rolling back to face the cute, tidy house before them. They stared, wide-eyed, at the large plaque that had christened the humble little abode as 'Home'. A trembling hand unwarily clutched at the front of their shirt as they started hyperventilating._

_Eventually, some semblance of calmness was attained. The human got to their feet and released their shirt, the fabric now quite wrinkled. They gulped heavily, regained a normal breathing pattern. They held their head high, and crossed the threshold into 'Home'._

_"Do you smell that?" asked the tall, white-furred monster waiting within. "Surprise! It is a butterscotch-cinnamon pie. I thought we might celebrate your arrival. I want you to have a nice time living here, so I will hold off on snail pie for...tonight..."_

_The tall monster's smile faded as she hastened forward and knelt down in front of the human. "Child, are you alright? It has only been less than a minute since we have been apart, and you have suddenly grown so pale... Do you feel ill, small one?"_

_She laid a palm against their forehead. The human did not respond._

_Frowning, she rose back to full height. "You must be tired. Your first surprise will have to wait for now. I have another I believe you are in more need of at this time. Come with me."_

_She took their hand in hers and led them down a hall to the right. The human did not resist her gentle pull. Without introduction, she opened the first door on the left and led them into the bedroom beyond. She released them only to turn down the sheets of the single bed flanked by various toys, then turned back to them and picked them fully off the ground._

_"Try to get some rest, my child." She laid them down on the mattress, then tucked the blanket in up to their neck. "I will be back to check on you shortly."_

_She smoothed out their hair. She crossed over to the lamp in the corner and turned it off. She gave them one last look of concern before leaving, closing the door quietly behind her._

_The human was alone. The room's dim lighting gave odd highlights to the expression they wore, intensified the look of shock and confusion written upon their drawn-pale face. A look that silently asked, What's going on???_

Toriel nearly collapsed to the floor. Not only had one of her worst fears just been confirmed, but if any conclusions were to be drawn from past-Frisk's reaction, then not only had she killed them before. She had been the very first to.

  Unwilling to live. Unable to die.

  Even when you know that you should, you just can't help yourself, can you?

 _"Attack or run away!"_  
_"When I said face towards danger...I meant face toward the bullets!"_  
_"TRY HOLDING 'UP' TO JUMP!"_  
_"Fight me or leave!"_  
_"HOLD 'UP' TO JUMP HIGHER! JEEZ!!!"_  
_"WHAT ARE YOU DOING? JUST FACE UPWARDS!!! IT'S NOT HARD!"_

  You just _have_ to stay alive, don't you?

  You just can't give these people what they really want - what _you_ really want - can you?

_The human stood, un-moving, before the king. Fire fell like torrential rain down upon the human, who did not even flinch as the attacks whittled away at their HP. Even as the king's attacks became less and less damaging, still the human did not move or fight back. They simply stood there, allowing death's hands to reach out and claim them._

_The darkness came. Their soul shattered._

   "You cannot give up just yet... Chara! Stay determined..."

_They returned, undamaged, to The End._

_An ethereal hum beckoned them. The human did not answer its call. They simply stood there, facing the archway, as their hands at their sides clenched into fists, and a faint grimace crossed their facial features. A grimace full of frustration, of disappointment, of weariness, of self-loathing._

_They left the weapon tucked away in their back pocket untouched, and re-entered the chamber beyond._

  How very selfish.

  There really is something wrong with you, isn't there?

Exploiting their insecurities. Making them constantly second-guess themself. Inhibiting them from ever truly dying. Every moment exposed to 'Chara's influence, and it became increasingly more clear how simple it had been for 'them' to overpower Frisk's consciousness, suppress it, slowly but surely consume and kill it.

  Or, maybe...there isn't?

Several a monster stiffened. That was unexpected.

  They're the ones that always keep attacking you, keep hurting you, keep killing you, simply by just being here, as trapped here as they are.

Several a monster fidgeted where they stood.

  No matter what you do, they'll always attack, hurt, and kill you. You'll keep dying. You'll keep refusing to stay dead. You'll stay trapped down here.

  Is it not clear what this means?

For some reason, everyone felt very uneasy about where this train of thought was going to end.

  Being unable to die, without anyone remembering you when you come back to life; this is not a curse, but rather a blessing.

  It means you can do whatever you want in this world, with absolutely no consequence.

  With that in mind, the answer to end your entrapment here is painfully obvious.

The reason for their unease became clear as the next thought implied felt as though pure darkness had manifested itself into the two words that crept into and seeped into their very souls:

**Kill them.**

Chills ran down their spines as the monitors collectively displayed several scenes in which monsters were struck down, and turned to dust at the hands of the human child before them.

  Think about it. It was the only way _she_ would have let you leave.

_"B e  g o o d ,  w o n ' t  y o u ?  M y  c h i l d . . ."_

_With those last words, a smile still on her face, the tall, white-furred monster's kneeling form disintegrated, leaving a generous mound of dust behind on the ground she previously knelt upon._

_There was a clatter as the toy knife in the human's hand fell to the ground. The human staggered back, staring at the pile of dust in alarm and fright. They did not acknowledge the pale gray glow of the upside-down heart quivering in the air where the monster's chest used to be they were too in shock. Neither did they acknowledge it splinter, then shatter into indefinable specks of dust that joined the pile beneath._

_The human gaped. The human scarcely took a single breath. A trembling hand rose to reach for the dust pile._

_Their hand flew up to their mouth. The human turned on their heel and ran the other way._

_"Take me back." Their words were breathless and muffled as they ran back down the corridors they previously pursued the monster down. "Take me back! Undo this! I d-didn't know she would... I-I didn't think I could..! I didn't want her to-!"_

_They reached the stairs. They tripped and fell on the first step. They landed splayed out and crumpled on the remaining ones. They did not get up. They curled up into a ball, their other hand tightly grasping the front of their shirt._

_"Please..." Their eyes closed. "Take it back..."_

_Their mourning pleads echoed, unanswered, in the empty hall._

Toriel grimaced behind her fingers, tears welling in her eyes. It was clear to see now that, as much as she was the first person to ever kill Frisk, so too had she been the first person Frisk ever killed.

  It's the only way _he_ could allow you to leave, too.

_"We could be like... Like a family..."_

_The human and monster embraced each other in the twilight shining through the barrier. The human had a content look on their face, the monster a look of hope. Save for the hum of the barrier, all was peacefully quiet._

_"...No. That's just a fantasy, isn't it?"_

_The human's eyes snapped open, contentment becoming confusion._

_Ever so gently, the monster pulled the human back, so the two could meet each other face to face. "Young one, when I look at you," the monster explained with a soft smile, "I'm reminded of the human that fell here long ago..."_

_Something flitted across the human's face, too quickly to be properly discerned._

_"You have the same feeling of hope in your eyes." The hand that had pulled them away reached up to so very very gently stroke their hair. "There is an ancient prophecy among our people. One day, a savior will come from the heavens. I believe the one that was prophesied was you."_

_The human's brows furrowed in slight puzzlement._

_"Somewhere in the world outside...there must be a way to free us from our prison." Until now, the monster had been smiling. When he next spoke, he did so with a deep frown and heavy heart. "It pains me to give you this responsibility, but...please. Take my soul...and seek the truth."_

_Realization dawned on the human's face. Not soon enough. With force that was as firm yet gentle as possible, the king pushed the human back, away from him, and they landed gracelessly on their backside. They only had time to lift their head as a blood red trident materialized into the king's hand._

_He turned it swiftly, aimed it straight at his chest. "NO-!"_

_Their hand had barely extended toward him before the air was rent with the sound of tearing flesh. They became statue stiff, and stared in horror as the life-taking weapon faded away._

_"Ha...Ha... I'm sorry..." Though his form was starting to fade as well, he was smiling. "I couldn't give you a simple, happy ending..."_

_The human's arm slowly, stiffly lowered._

_"But I believe your freedom...is what my son...what Asriel would have wanted."_

_With those last words, a smile still on his face, the tall, white-furred monster's kneeling form disintegrated, leaving a generous mound of dust behind on the ground he previously knelt upon._

_The human did not get up. The human did not reach for their ticket to freedom. The human did not move at all. Save for continuously staring at what was left of the king, in grievous despair, the human did nothing at all._

Asgore stumbled backwards, knocking over an empty chair in his wake. He stared, gaping and wide-eyed, at the monolith, thinking not how surreal it was to watch himself die, but rather how surreal it was that he had (would have?) taken his own life.

  Killing them was the only way to progress in this world. The only way to leave this world.

Toriel's head shook side to side. "That is not true!" She stepped forward, moving her hands away from her mouth as she did. "You have proven that that is not true, Frisk! We are all here, alive and with you, and free of our underground imprisonment! You did not have to kill anyone to-"

  But that wasn't enough, was it?

Toriel cringed as the voiceless goading persisted, a smirk felt in the words this time.

  You're still here, right back where you started, and everyone acts as though nothing happened.

An enraged growl came from Undyne. "That's because _you_ were the one keeping them trapped there you little bastard!!"

Toriel rounded on the former Captain, not quite admonishing, not quite enraged, but looking offended nonetheless.

  ...No. That's not entirely true, is it?

The former queen, even if she had something to say, was silenced as more words seeped into her head.

  They recognize you, don't they?

 _"You looked bored, darling."_  
_"Truthfully, when I first saw you, I felt..."_  
_"The echoes of something warm, something... Something like, 'I miss being friends with you.'"_  
_"REALLY THOUGH!!! THAT HUMAN!!! DO I KNOW THAT PERSON???"_  
_"you've already heard my spiel, haven't you?"_  
_"...like I was seeing and old friend for the first time."_

  And yet, even with all this recognition...that won't stop them, will it?

 _"...why are you looking at me like that? Like you have seen a ghost."_  
_"THIS IS ALL WRONG! I CAN'T BE YOUR FRIEND!!! YOU ARE A HUMAN! I MUST CAPTURE YOU!!!"_  
_"For everyone's hopes! For everyone's dreams! And for my own freaking dignity! I, Undyne, will knock you down!"_  
_"I'll make your last living moments... ABSOLUTELY beautiful!"_  
_"Human. It was nice to meet you. Goodbye."_

  They'll always keep attacking you. They'll always keep hurting you. They'll always keep killing you.

More scenes were depicted in which the attacks of several a monster ended with Frisk collapsing, their soul shattering before they even hit the ground.

  Don't you see? Killing them first is the only answer.

Several scenes were depicted in which a jab of a stick, a swipe of a toy, a throw of a fist, a kick of a foot, a thrash of a book, a bash of a frying pan, a bang of a gun, a swing of a knife struck down monster after monster, their forms crumbling and coming undone before they even hit the ground.

  You'll be free from the pain. You'll be free from the suffering.

_They can't hurt you anymore if they're all **dead**._

"S...Such backwards thinking!" It was pure folly to believe her words would change anything now, but denial had so thoroughly gripped Toriel that she could not do anything else. "Have I not taught you any different, Frisk? Chara?? There was never a need to resort to violence! I know you have been hurt, but lashing out and felling others like this does not resolve anything! You know better than this, Chara... You just cannot truly believe that this was the only way to-"

A newly displayed memory shamed the heartbroken mother into silence. This one displayed a very familiar setup, but unfamiliarity resided in the displayed human, who brandished a toy knife with unshakable determination. Just a single swing of the plastic blade and...

_A strangled gasp rang out, its origin still standing despite the mortal wound carved across her torso. She could not move, she could not breathe. She could only continue to stare, in horrified shock, down at the small human child standing before her as her body started fading away._

_"Y . . . y o u . . . r e a l l y   h a t e   m e   t h a t   m u c h ?"_

_The human's face was turned away, toward the life-taking weapon they turned idly back and forth in their powder-coated hand._

_"...I could very well ask you the same thing."_

_The human spoke in an emotionless, hollow monotone. The same could not be said about the smile on their face as they finally turned it back toward the dying monster standing before them._

_"I won't, however." Their smile widened as their hand rose. "You're really not worth talking to."_

_The monster could not even blink before the blade tore through her again. She could not gasp or cry out again as dust clotted her airways, suffocated her as the rest of her body fell apart. The human did not so much as flinch as specks of what used to be her fell upon them like snow, clung to them. The human did not stop smiling._

_Soon, she was no more than a pile of shimmering gray powder scattered across the ground. The gray light of her soul shone upon the human as it quivered in the air above them, ready to fall apart, or for someone to reach out and claim it._

_The human kicked up her dust in their wake as they moved forward, expression unsmiling and neutral, through the door that lead to the exit of the Ruins, and away from the soul as it shattered._

  See?

  Now isn't it just so much easier this way?

Though her knees felt weak and her legs like jelly, somehow, Toriel remained upright.

"Chara..." She held back a sob, but the fur on her cheeks became quite soggy all the same. " _Why_...?"

She knew why. Everyone knew why. But hearing about it and seeing it as it once happened, suffice to say...nothing could have ever prepared her to see how greatly death had warped the child she had once loved and cared for like her own.

  You were powerless in that world. Powerless to stop those who would constantly hurt you, simply because you exist, from ever hurting you again.

  In this world, however, you have power. Power to stop those who will _always_ hurt and kill you, simply because you exist, before they ever get the chance to.

"THAT...THAT CANNOT BE TRUE, CAN IT?" Papyrus stepped forward, an uneasy grin on his skull. "SURELY NOT EVERYONE ACTIVELY SOUGHT FOR YOUR DESTRUCTION WHILST YOU TRAVELED THROUGH THE UNDERGRO-"

  And you know they will.

  You know how two-faced everyone is down here.

 _"that promise i made to her..."_  
_"I've had enough of this predictable charade."_  
_"you know what would have happened if she never said anything?"_  
_"If we're not friends..."_  
_"...buddy."_  
_"IT MEANS I CAN DESTROY YOU WITHOUT REGRET!"_  
_"...You'd be dead where you stand."_

  Given the opportunity, you know that these so claimed 'friends' will not hesitate to betray and kill you.

Half the gathered monsters found themselves cringing in shame.

  It's only a matter of opportunity and time...

Finally, Papyrus stopped beating around the bush. "HAVE I NOT ALWAYS OFFERED FRIENDSHIP TO YOU?? HAVE I NOT ALWAYS DONE ALL WITHIN MY POWER TO KEEP YOU SAFE FROM UNDYNE'S VERY MURDER-Y OPINION OF YOU???"

Undyne briefly gave him the stink eye as he continued, his expression equal parts mortified and grievous. "IS...IS THIS REALLY HOW YOU FELT BACK THEN? THAT I WOULD EVENTUALLY THROW YOU TO THE SHARKS?? BUT YOU KNOW THAT I HAVE NEVER DONE SUCH A THING! I HAVE NEVER BETRAYED YOU!! I HAVE NEVER KILLED YOU!! I'M NOT...I'VE NEVER BEEN ANYTHING LIKE WHAT WHAT IS BEING IMPLIED-"

The tall skeleton's sanctimonious monologue not only ran out of steam, but was unceremoniously interrupted by another change in the center screens, preluded by related events portrayed in the outer ones:

 _"I could NEVER send him into battle!"_  
_"ALAS, POOR PAPYRUS!"_  
_"What did you do to him?"_  
_"Then why'd you kill my brother?"_  
_"What did you DO TO HIM?"_  
_"He'd get ripped into little smiling shreds."_

_"I SEE YOU ARE APPROACHING. ARE YOU OFFERING A HUG OF ACCEPTANCE? WOWIE!! MY LESSONS ARE ALREADY WORKING!! I, PAPYRUS, WELCOME YOU WITH OPEN A-!"_

_A breathless gasp rang out into the fog-shrouded air. There was a dry clatter as the vertebrae consisting the skeleton's neck crumbled, causing his skull to roll off his chest plate and into his open arms._

_"W-WELL, THAT'S NOT WHAT I EXPECTED..."_

_Not two seconds later, the rest of his body disintegrated into a mound of dust in the snow. It looked very much like soot. His skull fell into the pile and rolled some more before stopping a few paces away from where the human that had attacked him stood. They kept their head down, and the hand that brandished the toy knife at their side. They walked forward, their steps certain and not at all shambling._

_"BUT... ST...STILL! I BELIEVE IN YOU!"_

_The human came to a deathly still halt._

_"YOU CAN DO A LITTLE BETTER!" Despite his condition, the skeleton's voice did not falter, nor did the smile on his face. "EVEN IF YOU DON'T THINK SO! I... I PROMI-"_

_The human swung their leg. Their heel made contact with the skeleton's lower jaw. It shattered instantly upon impact. Unable to form words anymore, he could only look on as the human turned on their heel, then planted the other right between his eye sockets._

_"You'll never learn, will you?"_

_There was a smile on the human's face as they started to apply pressure. Cracks blossomed forth from beneath their foot that spread out, unhindered, across his entire skull._

_"What a stupid, forgettable loser you are."_

_Despite his missing mandible, despite the insults, despite the fact he was on the brink of death, the skull looked like he was still smiling._

_Dust shot up as the human's foot was driven into the snow. The specks clung to their boot and the leg of their shorts. The fog started to clear away._

_Without word nor smile, the human turned, and continued down the path they pursued before being interrupted._

  So, really.

  It's only fair that you should betray them before they ever get the chance to betray you, don't you think?

Several monsters' breathing patterns became unsteady; some simply shocked, others also enraged. Papyrus' only became slightly uneven as he stood his ground, his body subtly trembling and the beginnings of tears in the corners of his sockets.

The gathered found themselves silently, unwarily, unanimously conflicted. Upon the couch, present-Frisk continuously looked to be in less and less pain the longer these events progressed; tapping into this 'airwave' had created a sense of structure and order that appeared to be doing wonders for the child. The 'impostor', too, by the look of it.

It was the reason the two were doing better that was the cause of conflict. Yes, following this strain of thought had significantly lessened the risk of Frisk's soul being torn asunder, but being exposed to what this 'airwave' produced, being exposed to the underhanded tactics and deceptions that had been used to manipulate Frisk for so long... Was it really worth subjecting themselves (and, most importantly, Frisk) to so much despair and death?

"...No. Nuh-uh. No way. We are _not_ d-doing this anymore!"

It was a shock to hear Alphys sound so firm and determined. Despite the tears still rolling down her cheeks, the expression on her face matched the tone of her voice as she hastened back to her computer desk. "I don't care if it's helping Frisk! W-We're not exposing ourselves, or Frisk, to this anymore!"

The scientist returned to her previous work of 'airwave tuning' with renewed fervency.

"Yeah...yeah!" Pride and justice once again finding a home within her, Undyne stomped her foot and rounded on the monolith as though it was her greatest enemy. "Who said we had to listen to any of this bastard's bullshit anyway?!"

Not just Toriel, but also Asgore look offended this time. " _Undyne!_ "

Undyne didn't look the slightest bit abash or remorseful as she looked to the two former royals. "Look, I mean absolutely no offence, Toriel, Asgore. I'm sure they were a great big ball of sunshine back when you knew them. But _that_..!"

With furrowed brow and snarling mouth, Undyne pointed an accusatory finger back to the monolith. "That. Is _not_. Your kid."

It hadn't needed to be said, but Undyne spoke the truth. They knew the truth of the matter long before that night. It wasn't as though they couldn't believe it before now, but seeing it as it had once happened...the veracity of her statement could not be denied.

Something in the way they carried themself. Something in the curve of their smile. Something in the gleam of their eyes. In the timelines in which Frisk was so very much not like the Frisk they knew, they could see it now. See something so very inherently _not. Frisk._

Something not even _human_ , as several of their past instances seemed to pick up on:

 _"You're not really human, are you?"_  
_"my brother'd really like to see a human..."_  
_"I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THAT IS."_  
_"so, y'know, it'd really help me out..."_  
_"Human. No, WHATEVER you are."_  
_"if you kept pretending to be one."_

  For too long you've been hurt. For too long you've been suffering.

  For too long, you've never known relief from this endless torment.

The scowl upon Undyne's face lessened. She looked back to the monitor, saw how unchanged the structure of memory flow seemed to be, then to her wife. " _Babe_??"

"I'm trying, I'm trying!" Alphys did not tear her eyes away from her computer screen, but panic shone clearly in them. "B-But it's not so easy to ignore something so... _intimately_ attuned to one's own thoughts!"

She sounded disgusted with how she phrased it, but it sounded as though she couldn't think of a better way to. Thankfully, there was no need for further elaboration; the gathered understood so immediately it was unnerving.

  And no one down here is all that keen to make it easier on you, now are they?

"IS...IS THERE NOTHING WE CAN DO?" Papyrus spoke up, his voice sounding as distant as he looked. "TO...TO ASSIST YOU IN YOUR ENDEAVORS?"

"Try talking to Frisk!" Alphys answered, sounding almost curt without her realizing it she was too engrossed in her work. "I t-think they can still hear us! There appeared to be a surge when you were talking just now, Undyne; I think they're memories associated with you! Maybe one's strong enough to overpower this! K-Keep going,  dear!!"

At first, Undyne hadn't exactly been sure where she had been going with her earlier ranting. With her wife's encouragement, she looked ready and raring to give the pre-battle pep talk of the century.

"Alright listen up, soldier!" She turned and faced Frisk directly, yet was unable to get too close because of the invisible, repulsive force that still surrounded them. "Only my voice matters right now! Time to tune out everything else!"

  Doesn't that upset you? Frustrate you? Enrage you?

"We're going to ignore everything else right now, got it? So don't you dare listen to anyone else but me!"

  Does it not want you to inflict the pain they inflicted on you right back at them?

Undyne found herself cringing, yet she could not quite understand why. "I'm the only voice that matters to you right now, Frisk! Tune out everything else! And definitely tune out the _lies_ this _liar's_ trying to fill your head w-!!"

She had every intention not to give any mention to this 'liar' during the pep talk; she felt it would defeat the purpose. And she was correct to feel that way, yet in her frustration she had let slip enough for the purpose to start pushing daisies.

 _"I'm not a hero."_  
_"Don't they know we've got Undyne to protect us!?"_  
_"But I know there's someone out there."_  
_"I won't die!"_  
_"Yo...did you see the way she was staring at you...?"_  
_"Someone who'll never give up trying to do the right thing, no matter what."_

Alphys tried to stop it. She really did try to steer the deluge away from what she strongly assumed it was heading for. But the memory was too strong, 'Chara's influence still too powerful, and the poor scientist could only keep her head turned away as the sound of a toy knife slicing her wife's chest apart became the loudest noise in the room.

_"Undyne..." The monster child the captain had jumped out in front of to shield them from the lethal blow trembled where they stood. "You're...you're hurt..."_

_Coughing only once, the captain grinned at the kid. "Hurt?" she scoffed. "It's nothing. Next time, listen when I tell you to leave, okay?"_

_Tears welled in the young monster's eyes. "Undyne...I..."_

_"I'll take care of this!" She dropped the smile, urgency in her expression and voice. "Get out of here!"_

_The kid looked away, looking ashamed, and hesitated only briefly before running back the way they came._

_It was only until the kid was far out of sight that the captain allowed herself to falter, then drop to one knee._

_"...heh...'It's nothing'..." Her physical form started to waver, starting at her feet and spreading slowly upwards. "No...s-somehow, with just one hit...I'm already...already..."_

_Had she the strength to do so, she would've pounded her fist against the ground in anger. "D...damn it..."_

_Her attacker looked bored, regarding only the life-taking weapon in their hand. It looked quite worn out and in desperate need of replacing._

_The captain slumped further, the upper half of her body starting to slide off along the gash in her chest. "Papyrus...Alphys...Asgore... Just like that, I..."_

_For the first time in her life, the captain looked truly defeated. "I've failed you."_

_Her form started fading with the sound of scattering dust. The human turned, and walked away._

She had tried her hardest not to be affected, but still, Alphys could not help but sob quietly. Undyne's fists clenched tightly, so much so the gesture was practically audible.

_"...No..."_

None among the gathered was more startled than the married couple. Enough so that both of them turned their attentions completely to the monolith, the center screens upon which showed the 'camera', as if on cue, halting in its advance..

_"My body...it feels like it's splitting apart." The captain's breathing was heavy, growing less so by the minute. "Like any instant...I'll scatter into a million pieces."_

_The human did not turn around._

_"But..." She inhaled sharply, forcing herself to get up. "Deep, deep in my soul. There's a burning feeling I can't describe. A burning feeling that_ won't _let me die."_

_A smile ghosted across her lips. One the human did not see, for their back was still turned to her._

_"This isn't just about monsters anymore, is it?" The captain stood up fully, though her visage still looked like it was coming undone around the edges. "If you get past me, you'll...you'll destroy them all, won't you? Monsters, humans, everyone... Everyone's hopes. Everyone's dreams. Vanquished in an instant."_

_The human remained facing away._

_"But I_ won't _let you do that." A grin split across the captain's face, her one good eye opening to reveal that the yellow of her eye had become black, her slitted pupil glowing fiercely with light. "Right now, everyone in the world...I can feel their hearts beating as one. And we all have_ one _goal. To defeat_ you _."_

_The human did not even flinch._

_"Human. No, WHATEVER you are. For the sake of the whole world..." She pounded a fist to her split-apart chest, and when she next spoke, the captain's voice thundered with the fury of a general declaring war. "I,_ Undyne _, will strike you down!"_

_Light completely enveloped her body. Once it faded, the captain stood tall and proud, completely undamaged and very much not dead._

_"You're gonna have to try a little harder than_ that _."_

_At last, the human - or whatever it was - finally reacted._

_"The heroine appears."_

_The tone was hollow, monotonous, almost bored. The same could not be said about the smile on their face as they turned, facing the reformed captain with their grip on their weapon tight and unyielding._

_"Let's see how long it takes you this time around, shall we?"_

_The wind howled as the real battle finally began._

If she were a skeleton, Unyne would've been picking her jaw up off the ground by now. She stared at the warrior she had once become. She gaped at the flaring light exploding out of her previously patched-up eye. She ogled at the changes her armor had undergone. She gawked at the fierce, no-nonsense way in which she attacked. Undyne considered herself a monster who was hard to impress. So if she couldn't even impress herself, well, who else could?

"Holy shit," she murmured breathlessly. Then a wide, almost manic grin split across her face. "I. Look. Totally _badass_!!"

"You're _dying_!" Alphys gasped in horror, and whether it was just from seeing this transformation or also from Undyne's reaction to it was unclear.

Undyne slowly shook her head. "No. I'm... _un_ dying."

And everyone suddenly understood the context behind the previously bestowed title a certain flower had used to address her.

"...No. You are most certainly dying, Undyne."

If anyone was expected to comment on this, the least likely person to do so was Toriel. Several heads turned to her, Undyne's expression far more incredulous than anyone else's.

"I have seen this happen before." The former queen stared only at the monolith, looking haunted. "During the war. I was being escorted to heal the wounded when we were ambushed. The humans had completely outnumbered us; I thought it was the end. But one of our most dedicated soldiers refused to accept defeat, despite their mortal wounds. I truly had no idea what to think when it happened, but..."

Toriel swallowed hard, the similarities between what she witnessed long before and what she was witnessing now making the older memory feel very fresh, despite how very long ago it had happened. "They had...undergone a transformation quite similar to the one you had, Undyne. They had gained endurance and strength unlike anything I had ever seen before. While their comrades had fallen, they had single-handedly driven off the ambush, saving me."

Undyne thought briefly that had been the end of the story. The helpless look that next took over Toriel's expression deflated any pride she felt for the nameless soldier that had been her predecessor in death-defiance.

"But, as the forces were driven off, that power...it had become too much for them. Their body could not handle it any longer. A-And in the end they...they..."

Toriel did not say anymore. She merely gestured with a tiny nod back toward the monolith, which now displayed the winner of the battle.

 _"Damn it..." The spear in the captain's hand, its tip barely piercing the bridge upon which she stood, was the only thing keeping her upright. "So even_ that _power...it wasn't enough...?"_

_The victor stood before the captain, studying the blade in their dust-powdered hand. It looked more in need of replacement now more than ever._

_"...Heh...heheheh..." Her body was trembling, wavering, but she smiled as if nothing was wrong. "If you...If you think I'm gonna give up hope, you're wrong."_

_There was a sound like acid burning through metal as part of her gloved hands started dripping off of her body._

_"'Cause I've...got my friends behind me." More of that burning sound as more of her body started falling off in a melted, gloppy mess. "Alphys told me that she would watch me fight you... And if anything went wrong, she would...evacuate everyone."_

_The victor looked completely disinterested in what the loser had to say._

_"By now she's called Asgore and told him to absorb the 6 human souls." Her entire body was melting at this point. "And with that power...this world will live on...!"_

_The captain's body still had some form and detail to it, but was otherwise a melted blob before it disintegrated completely. In the end, she was still smiling._

_The human stared down at the coagulated mass of goo and dust that had been left behind. Some of it had caught onto their shirt, further soiling the already filthy clothing article. Their head turned and focused intently on something to their left, out across the canyon the bridge spanned. They stared for quite a long time before they smiled._

_"We'll see about that."_

_They turned and walked away, their expression one as though it belonged to someone that had never smiled or even emoted before a day in their life._

"Oh my _god_..." Alphys' eyes went wide behind her glasses, one of her hands covering her mouth as her mind began to race.

As for Undyne, she could only look on at the fate that had once befallen her. And for probably the first time in her life, she felt weak and vulnerable.

  Is it not satisfying to see them suffer?

  Is it not satisfying to give them a taste of what they did to you?

  Is it not satisfying to make them pay?

Alphys flinched, then shook her head to free it from her racing thoughts. Now was definitely not the time for that. "C...C'mon, guys! Keep going! F-Frisk still needs our help!"

Not just Undyne, but the rest of the gathered monsters had decided enough was enough.

"Stop listening to them, Frisk!" Undyne screeched.

  It's not like being merciful did you any good, anyway.

"B-BEING MERCIFUL DID YOU SO MUCH GOOD! REMEMBER THAT, FRISK!" Papyrus beseeched.

  They're the ones that reap the benefit, while you continue to endure pain and suffering from their ungrateful ignorance.

"H-Hang in there, Frisk! A-And don't believe anything they're trying to tell you!" Alphys pleaded.

  They walk away without a scratch after beating you half to death; How fair is that?

"You cannot allow these lies to besmirch your thoughts any longer, Frisk!" Asgore urged.

  You know you want this.

  You want them to hurt as you have.

  You want them to suffer as you have.

  You want to _make them **pay**_.

"Th...This isn't you, Frisk!" Toriel tearfully begged. "You never wanted this at all! You are a kind, gentle soul who likes butterscotch pie!"

"Your favorite tea is golden flower!"

"You a-always geek out with me when we watch anime together!"

"YOU LOVE MY SPAGHETTI MORE THAN ANYONE ELSE!!"

"You're too much of a wimpy loser to ever be able to hurt anyone! Even when you attack at full force!!"

Toriel stepped forward. "You never wanted to hurt anyone, Frisk! You never wanted to kill anyone! Chara has been filling your thoughts with _lies_ , and you cannot believe in them anymo-"

"they were right."

Emotions had been running high all night. Yet it was hard for any of them to convey a single one as practically every eye and socket in the room turned toward the short skeleton standing among them.

"they were right," Sans repeated, his voice heavy with the horrid realization that had dawned on his face. "i know it sounds horrible and, frankly, impossible to believe, but don't you see? they were _right_. and if anything..."

He turned his head up and stared at everyone, his pupils shaking. "right now, wouldn't that make _us_ the liars?"

If not for the next stanza of voiceless verse, it would not have become so painfully clear what Sans had meant with his grim observations:

  You think you mean anything to these people?

  Anything more than another soul to collect?

  You mean _nothing_ to them.

  So why should they mean _anything_ to you?

Toriel's shoulders heaved with suppressed sobs. Asgore's head hung low as he covered his grimacing face with one of his massive palms. Alphys' shoulders hunched forward as her glasses became misty. Undyne's eye closed tightly as she gritted her teeth and turned her head away, finally understanding why she felt so uncomfortable earlier. Papyrus' body became more tremulous as he dropped his face into his gloved hands.

The realization had shamed everyone into death-like silence, making the next event of Frisk's past portrayed for all to see much more jarring that it originally would have been.

_"heya," the shadowy figure greeted in a low, even voice. "you've been busy, huh?"_

_The second figure across the golden hall stood still as stone._

_"...so, i've got a question for ya." The small orbs of white in the figure's otherwise empty sockets were his only discernible feature until the eyes closed. "do you think even the worst person can change...? that everyone can be a good person, if they just try?"_

_The second figure took a single step forward._

_The first chuckled humorlessly. "heh heh heh heh...all right. well, here's a better question."_

_The first opened his eyes, which had become so dark and empty it was as though they were miniature black holes. "do you wanna have a bad time? 'cause if you take another step forward...you are_ really _not going to like what happens next."_

_Their grip on the very real and very sharp knife in their hand tightening, the second figure took another step forward._

_"welp," the skeleton sighed. "sorry, old lady. this is why i never make promises."_

And this was why Sans hadn't spoken up for a while. Because it proved a small theory in his mind to be true.

The only voice that spoke next was past-Sans' as the gathered witnessed possibly the most ruthless, merciless attacks they'd ever seen come from a monster, on par only with the attacks Undyne the Undying had brandished. Perhaps the recently revealed revelations had lessened the blow, or maybe seeing how destructively powerful the skeleton was had put them all into shock. Either way, the gathered appeared too numb to react to watching skewer-like bones rush for Frisk, massive, ghastly skulls bearing draconic features blasting burning white light toward Frisk, or Sans' blue magic being used to throw Frisk around hard enough to leave craters in the shape of their body behind.

It had been one thing to come to the realization that Frisk remembered this fight. It had been another to (admittedly, quite vaguely) come clean about the fact that it had happened to the others that night two years ago, and again to his brother just...had it really only been last night? That conversation felt as though it had taken place an eternity ago...

Either way, the fact remained that this was a memory that had always been intended to be shared only between the two that had lived through it. There was never a need for anyone else to fully know what had happened. No one needed to see this. Especially not the person whose promise he had so brutally broken through his past actions.

...Especially not the tall skeleton that had uncovered his face when the room became filled with the roaring, rancorous sound of mad, power-crazed laughter.

Their body was covered head to toe with dust of the fallen. They cackled as though the person who had bloodied and bruised them had succeeded in telling the most hilarious joke in all history. Papyrus could see that the person upon the screens was a merciless murderer who derived pleasure only from inflicting suffering and death upon others. He looked upon this person not in anger, nor in fear, nor in disgust or hatred or malice of any kind.

He looked upon them in unrelenting sorrow.

Frisk's body had felt everything. Frisk's eyes had seen everything. Frisk's voice had said everything. Frisk's mind had remembered everything. It had once been impossible for him to understand why, but if one thing became crystal clear that night, it had been something Papyrus had been asking himself for quite a long time:

"NO WONDER THEY BELIEVED YOU HATED THEM, BROTHER."

There was not a single trace of hate or spite in his brother's words, but Sans still expressed as though Papyrus had said the single most heart-wrenching, soul-destroying thing he could've ever uttered.

_The skeleton was breathing heavily and sweating profusely by the time he had finally run out of energy from relentlessly throwing the human into every viable surface of the once-beautiful hall. He left said human lying on the ground, who for the most part, looked unaffected despite the blood loss and broken bones caused by his attacks up until this point._

_"all right. that's it." He did not spare any longer trying to catch his breath before informing his opponent: "it's time for my special attack. are you ready?"_

_The human spat out a mouthful of blood and wickedly grinned up at him as their answer._

_"here goes nothing."_

_The world was incredibly silent as the human waited, in seemingly eager anticipation, for this fabled 'special attack' the skeleton had been raving on about throughout the latter half of the fight. Long did the human wait for the attack to come. Long and long and long and long...and...long..._

_The human's smile lessened._

_"yep. that's right." The skeleton winked. "it's literally nothing. and it's not gonna be anything, either."_

_Something along the lines of outrage crossed their expression._

_The skeleton chuckled. The noise sounded breathless. "heh heh heh...ya get it? i know i can't beat you. one of your turns...you're just gonna kill me."_

_Another mouthful of blood was spat out, something along the lines of keenness rising in the human's expression._

_"so, uh. i've decided...it's not gonna_ be _your turn. ever." The skeleton's heavy breathing continued to get heavier and heavier the longer he continued talking. "i'm just gonna keep having_ my _turn until you give up. even if it means we have to stand here until the end of time. capiche?"_

_The human's expression turned taunting. We'll see about tha-_

_During the last round of the skeleton's attack, he had managed to separate the human from their weapon. It rested only a few feet away from where they were lying. It would've been ridiculously easy for them to retrieve it. But as their hand reached out for it, the skeleton's left socket flashed blue, and the human's arm returned to its initial position, as if they had never moved the extremity at all._

_The human finally stopped smiling._

_"you'll get bored here. if you haven't gotten bored already, i mean." Though these were perfect words to be said in confidence, no such pride was found anywhere in his voice or expression. "and then, you'll finally quit."_

_The human attempted reaching for their weapon again, only to receive the same results. Over and over and over again, though the action gave the implication that each use of it sapped away at his already diminished energy, still the skeleton prevented the human from getting any closer to the blade lying beside them._

_"i know your type." He stared them down with hollow sockets that held no compassion nor pity. "you're, uh, very determined, aren't you? you'll never give up, even if there's, uh...absolutely_ no _benefit to persevering whatsoever. if i can make that clear."_

_The skeleton looked more and more exhausted by the second. "no matter what, you'll just keep going. not out of any desire for good or evil...but just because you think you can. and because you 'can'......you 'have to'."_

_More blood was spat out. The human's expression became entirely expressionless._

_"but now, you've reached the end. there is nothing left for you now." Every time he blinked, it appeared to take significant effort to open his eyes again afterwards. "so, uh, in my personal opinion...the most 'determined' thing you can do here? is to, uh, completely give up. and...*_ yawn _* do literally anything else."_

_The two stared at each other. The only sound that passed between them was that of settling rubble. The skeleton did not move. The human did not move. It seemed as though the skeleton was to have his way._

_Slowly, so very, very, very...very slowly, his sockets drooped closed. Not three seconds later, he was snoring._

_Keenness once again crossed the human's features._

_They moved with the stealth of a master ninja. First, their weapon was finally retrieved; their hand welcomed it back into its grasp like an old friend. They started with a careful crawl, then a limp, then a tromp. They encroached steadily and purposefully upon the sleep-standing skeleton before them. The more distance they covered, the closer they became, and the human's keenness grew and grew, as did the returned smile upon their face. They raised their blade, keenness becoming mad bloodlust, their smile stretching ear to ear. Their arm swung down, their body following the motion in a full lunge-_

_-and the skeleton opened his eyes and practically sashayed out of harm's way._

_"heh, didja really think you would be able-"_

_In one quick, fluid motion, the human dropped the knife into their previously believed to be completely unusable hand, swung their arm, and tore the blade deeply across the skeleton's chest._

_He did not cry out or gasp. He could not cry out or gasp. His pupils shrunk to tiny pinpricks of light, his sockets widened to their maximum, his seemingly ever-present smile lessened, and he fell onto his rear with a dry clatter._

_Red started to bleed from the gash in his front._

_His hand reached up to shakily clutch at the wound as more of that red liquid began dribbling out of the corner of his mouth. He opened his eyes to look once at the being that had wounded him, then to the mortal wound he clutched uselessly at._

_"so..." He looked back to his attacker. "guess that's it, huh?"_

_His attacker seemed to find only interest in the life-taking weapon in their hand. They seemed very fascinated with the crimson liquid staining the knife's blade._

_The skeleton did not appear to know how to react to the human's disinterest in him. In the end, he simply closed his eyes, and moved to stand up. "just...don't say i didn't warn you."_

_The human remained completely entranced by the way their blood-stained knife gleamed in the empty sunlight._

_"welp." On his slippered feet again, the skeleton casually shrugged and gave the human a wink. "i'm going to grillby's."_

_The skeleton staggered away. The human continued staring at the blood-stained knife._

_"papyrus, do you want anything?"_

_The human kept staring, even as the sound made when a monster disintegrated into dust echoed within the decimated judgement hall._

_Letting the arm that clutched fervently to their knife hang down at their side, the human continued onward, a smile remaining plastered on their face._

Sans could see the triumph in that smile. Sans could see the insane glee in that smile. Sans could plainly see Chara in that smile.

But as the memory started to change, in the split second before the growl of static replaced it, Sans could see the tiny falter in that smile that fully provided the proof he needed that, in the end, he really hadn't entirely failed in getting through to his young human friend.

  They were never your guardians.

  They were never your friends.

  Hypocrites. Liars. Murderers. That's what these people are.

  Why should you care at all what happens to them?

  When have they ever cared about what happens to you?

  Where were they when you needed them?

"...You're right, Chara."

To hear Asgore's deep, rumbling voice roll over them now, and the gathered felt as though they were waking from a dream. They looked to find him stepping forward, a resolute expression on his bearded face several had never seen before, and only few hadn't seen in a very long time.

"In ways intentional and not, we have hurt you, Frisk. Even now, we are hurting you by trying to deny the truth in Chara's words. All of us here; we have all treated you horribly in one way or another, and it is wrong of us to hurt you further by trying to convince ourselves, and you, that we have never done such things to you."

Spirits started sinking again.

"But things are different now!" Asgore stepped forward, his voice gaining volume and firmness. "We have changed, Frisk! You have helped us to change! So, please, let us now help you!!"

No one knew what to expect after the former king finished. Least expected of all was to see Frisk, upon the couch, seemingly perk up the tiniest bit.

Whatever it was, it was working.

Undyne stepped forward next. "Okay I know I was kind of a grade-A asshole to you a whole bunch of times, Frisk! I _hated_ you! I hated all humans! I hated you so much I wanted you dead! To kill you myself! But you! You changed my mind! You helped me see that not all humans are all that bad! You're my friend now, my _family_ now! And I want nothing more than to help you now!!"

It no longer appeared as though Frisk was screaming.

"I-It was so, so wrong of me to use you the way I did, Frisk!" Alphys confessed, stationed back at her computer but keeping her head turned Frisk's way. "I was a major jerk to you! A h-h-horrible friend! Y-You had _every_ right to hate me! But you never did, did you? You helped me! You helped me come clean about the mistakes I'd done! You helped me realize that I had friends who liked me, that I liked back! And you're one of those friends, Frisk! A-And friends help friends when they need help!"

The tension in Frisk's muscles significantly lessened.

"I HAVE ALWAYS STRIVEN MYSELF TO BE THE GREATEST FRIEND I CAN BE!" Papyrus grinned though tears were still in his sockets. "AND FRIENDS DO NOT INTENTIONALLY TRY TO HURT THEIR FRIENDS! I KNOW, IN WAYS ENTIRELY UNINTENTIONAL, THAT I HAVE DONE THINGS THAT HAVE HURT YOU, FRISK! WORDS FAIL TO EXPRESS HOW SORRY I AM FOR HOW I HAVE HURT YOU, MY VERY IMPORTANT FRIEND! PLEASE, ALLOW ME TO MAKE UP FOR ALL I HAVE DONE TO HURT YOU BY ALLOWING ME TO HELP YOU NOW!!"

Frisk's face began to smooth over.

"I have failed several times in trying to protect you, my child!" Toriel tearfully admitted. "Done out of my own ignorance and fears, I have hurt you in my belief that it was for your own good! I cannot take back the mistakes I have already committed, but what I can do is do all in my power to protect and help you now! My precious Frisk, _please_ , let me help you!!"

The static looked as though it was starting to fade-

**They were never your guardians.**

**They were never your friends.**

**Hypocrites. Liars. Murderers. That's what these people are.**

**Why should you care at all what happens to them?**

**When have they ever cared about what happens to you?**

**Where were they when you needed them?**

"we're here now."

Though his step forward was calm, as was the tone he used to make this statement, Sans' eyes shown with resolute determination. "it's true that, in the past, we didn't care enough about you to realize how much you needed us. we were never really there for you at all."

As he continued, his voice grew more fervent and determined. "but what's done is done, kid. the past is in the past, and should stay there. we're here now. we're your friends, your _family_. we're here now! and we know how much you need us! we're all here for you, frisk! we're here to help you, frisk!! so don't... _don't give up_!!!"

"Yeah! Don't give up, Frisk!"

"We are here for you, Frisk!"

"LET US HELP YOU, FRISK!"

"Stay determined, Frisk!!"

It was hard to tell what was working anymore, and what was just pointless encouragement. The monolith seemed to be in conflict with itself, not sure what it should be displaying anymore. The same conflict seemed to be present upon present-Frisk's face, and in the static still surrounding them. Even the words of Chara's influence felt stuck, one final phrase repeating over and over again like a record player's needle getting stuck in a groove:

**Where were they when you needed them?**

**_Where were they when you needed them?_ **

**_Where were they? Where were they?_ **

**_Where_ **

**_were_ **

**_they?_ **

"There..there! I-I've got it!!"

The triumph in the scientist's voice fanned the spark of hope long since dwindled among the gathered. She backed up, arms raised, away from her desk, acting as if breathing on her computer or its keyboard would undo everything she'd worked for.

"I th-think I found it," she announced as she rejoined the group. "The path of least resistance. A-All of us calling out to Frisk just now unearthed it from all the jumbled-up 'a-airwaves'. They're starting to collapse now, and soon, they're gonna c-completely settle on this one memory. Unlike b-before, however, it sh-should be a lot less stressful for Frisk this time aro-"

    _"I hate you."_

Alphys flinched as though stabbed. Not only her, but everyone turned their attentions back to the monolith.

One by one, the screens went dark. One by one, the nonsensical voices and noises were silenced. But within the darkness, voices still rose, all of them leaving the listeners with absolutely no clue where or when they might have said these things:

 _"you made a snowman really happy."_  
_"THE QUEEN DISBANDED THE ROYAL GUARD."_  
_"...But I couldn't find her. Trust me, I looked."_  
_"UNDYNE'S THE EMPRESS NOW!!"_  
_"I quit my job as leader of the Royal Guard."_  
_"this is what happens when people like me take it easy."_

Those, too, slowly started to fade. Only a few dozen screens remained unclaimed by darkness.

 _"then she became the empress of the underground...and banished the queen back to the ruins."_  
_"IT'S STRANGE. ASGORE, ALPHYS, METTATON, AND UNDYNE WENT AWAY. SANS SAYS THEY WENT ON VACATION."_  
_"it seems a number of important people disappeared overnight. but no one else was harmed."_  
_"BUT HEY!! I WON'T GIVE UP!! I CAN'T GIVE UP!! I HAVE TO MAKE EVERYONE GIVE UP GIVING UP!"_  
_"Hey, why didn't you tell me the queen was so cute?”_

Only about ten left.

 _"she says the first thing she'll do after we get out of here...is take her army...and personally hunt you down and destroy you."_  
_"SHE, UM, REALLY HATES YOU NOW. EVEN MORE THAN SHE EVER HAS. IS IT BECAUSE SHE MADE FRIENDS WITH YOU, THEN...SHE SAYS YOU KILLED SOMEONE?"_  
_"I'm sorry about what happened with Asgore. You were just doing what you had to do. It's not your fault he...Ah, darn it. I miss the big guy..."_  
_"i don't have the heart to tell her what you did. do you know how she would react? if i told her that 'cause she protected you...you went on to kill my brother?"_

Five.

_"i've been knocking at the door to the ruins...but the woman that's there hasn't been answering me. maybe she's not feeling well? heh. or maybe she's not feeling anything at all...?"  
   "DON'T TELL MY BROTHER, BUT...DESPITE THE IMPROVEMENTS WE'VE MADE...SOMETIMES THIS JOB IS KIND OF HARD. SINCE THE KING WENT AWAY...LOTS OF PEOPLE JUST WANT TO GIVE UP."_

Four.

_"so, uh, hey...if we're not giving up down here...don't give up wherever you are, ok?"  
   "FINALLY!! I'M IMPORTANT. AND IT'S ALL THANKS TO YOU, AND THE HORRIBLE THINGS YOU DID."_

Three.

_"IT PAINS ME TO SAY THIS, BUT...YOU SHOULD PROBABLY NEVER COME BACK HERE."  
   "anyway, never come back here. you are not welcome."_

Two.

_"go to hell."_

And as the final screen went dark, one final, squeaky voice relented:

_"I really should have killed you when I had the chance."_

A multitude of ' _Click_ 's, the sound made when a phone call ended, echoed. Everything became dark and silent.

In the darkness, minds raced with disbelief and possibility. Could that have happened to me? Had I really once said that? Is that the result when certain conditions were met? I returned? I ruled? I threatened? I died?

They became too enraptured by the spurning possibilities in their minds that they did not immediately notice the change until Papyrus asked, "WH...WHAT IS THAT GLOWY, SWIRLY...YELLOW STAR THING?"

It stood out like a beacon in the darkness upon the center-most screen of the monolith. A shifting golden light that looked like a four-pointed star with inwardly-curved edges that never stayed still. Looking upon this golden light, and there was felt a sense of serenity, of sanctuary, of safety.

Sans and Alphys realized what they were looking at at the exact same time. " _Save point_."

The 'save point' grew bigger, as though it was coming closer, or someone was moving closer to it.

"...No... _No_...No. No. No! No! No! No! No! NO! NO NO _NO NO NO NO NO NONONONONONONONONONONONONONO!!!!_ "

Surprised and incredulous, all heads turned to where Flowey's panic-stricken screeches originated. Though the ever-growing closer save point upon the monolith was slowly bringing light back to the room, it was near impossible to see the flower. But they could all strongly assume that he looked as panicked as he sounded.

"Not _THIS_ one, YOU _IDIOT_!!" As the save point grew closer, Flowey's panic grew more apparent. " _ANY_ one but _THIS ONE_!!!"

"I...I-I c-can't change it now!" Alphys admitted, her sense of accomplishment deflated by her creation's anxious state. "Th-They're locked on to this memory! Trying to deter them from it now would c-cause more harm than good!"

The light grew brighter, and it could be seen that the flower was sweating bullets. He looked as though he desperately wanted to be anywhere but there, but in his current potted predicament, there was nothing he could do. In the end, he could only shake his head and turn it away, muttering " _No no no no no_ " over and over again under his breath.

Several witnesses to the flower's breakdown arched their brows. "what's gotten you so riled u-"

An odd sound as a small, familiar hand touched the curious golden star interrupted Sans' interrogation. Everyone looked to see the save point become replaced by, absurdly enough, a box. A thin, flat box that was black with a white border. Upon the box, they caught glimpse of a name, a Level, numbers, and The End. A hand, in curiosity, reached up to touch the box-

_BANG_

The hand retracted immediately as cracks erupted from the box's center.

_BANG_

Every letter and number displayed vanished, replaced instead by the words 'File erased'.

_BANG_

The cracks spread further; it was almost as if something on the other side was repeatedly punching the box, breaking its way through it.

With the sound of glass shattering, the gathered watched as the box completely broke and fell apart, revealing the familiar, smiling, impossibly gigantic face lying in wait behind it.

"Howdy!" the flower's voice boomed. "It's me, Flowey. Flowey the flower!"

The sheer volume of the plant's voice shook within their very souls. How...how had he gotten so big? And why did he look like he was upon a screen similar to the ones they all looked through now? A screen that, very frequently, became choked with static?

"I owe you a _huge_ thanks," the flower continued, sounding absolutely pleased with himself. "You really did a number on that old fool."

The gathered looked more confused by the second. "Old...fool?" mumbled Asgore.

"Without you, I never could have gotten past him." Swiftly and silently, the flower's face morphed into one bearing the former king's likeness. "But now, with _your_ help..."

With a sickening 'crunch', the flower's face morphed into a skull bearing uncanny likeness to the former king.

" **He's _dead_.** " His deep, grating, taunting voice had become like darkness incarnate. " **And _I've_ got the human souls!** "

Sans' sockets went wide with realization. "the souls..?" he breathlessly repeated. " _that's_ what happened to them?"

Upon the couch, present-Flowey was trembling so much, his pot shook.

Giddy laughter was heard all around them before the flower continued gloating. "Boy! I've been empty for so long... It feels great to have a soul inside me again. Mmmm, I can feel them wriggling..."

No one was more shocked by this confession than Alphys. "A...a _gain_???"

"Aww, you're feeling left out, aren't you?" the flower asked mockingly, no doubt in response to the view of him briefly shifting, suggesting the person who's eyes they all peered through was checking their surroundings, desperately searching for an escape. "Well, that's just perfect. After all, I only have six souls. I still need one more..."

His mouth grew wickedly sharp fangs that grinned widely down at them. " **Before I become GOD. And then, with my newfound powers...** "

His face morphed to bear Toriel's likeness. " **Monsters.** "

His face morphed to bear Frisk's likeness. " **Humans.** "

His face morphed into something too bizarre and alien to bear likeness to anything belonging in the world. " **E v e r y o n e .** "

His face morphed again, inverting its monochrome scheme so a wide white mouth smiled through incomprehensible darkness. " **I'll show them all the _real_ meaning of this world.** "

More gleeful laughter was heard as it became more apparent to the gathered why present-Flowey was so vehement about making a different memory become the one that had settled on.

"Oh, and forget about escaping to your old save file," the flower jeered. " **It's gone _forever_.** "

Papyrus' brows shot high up his forehead as he looked to present-Flowey. "YOU...YOU _KNEW_ ABOUT THE 'SAVES'?"

The soil in the plant's pot had become quite damp due to how much he was sweating.

"But don't worry," the flower assured in false comfort. "Your old friend Flowey has worked out a replacement for you!"

If any expression he had morphed his face into had been frightening, those all seemed like goofy faces one would make to cheer up a crying baby compared to the indescribably horror-inducing expression his face widened into.

" **I'll _save_ over your own death.** " The expression grew bigger, more horrifying. " **So you can watch me _tear you_ to _bloody pieces_...** " It became even bigger and more terrifying. " **Over, and _over,  a n d   o v e r_...** "

"Oh, god..." Toriel's hands covered her mouth again for the umpteenth time that night.

" **...what?** " The flower's expression lessened in response to the fact that the one he'd been ranting down to, despite everything, had not backed down. " **Do you really think you can stop _me_?** "

There was a short round of slow, mocking laughter. When the flower next spoke, it was as though he was there, whispering directly into everyone's ears:

"You really _are_ an idiot."

The screens were plunged into darkness once more. There was only enough time for the gathered to catch their breaths. Then, as a blood-red glow started pulsing in the darkness...

"What...the... _fu_...?" Undyne was too stunned to complete the words, her eye going wide and her jaw dropping open.

"Oh dear _god_..!" Alphys looked completely terror-struck, stumbling backwards so much she fell to the floor.

Even with his tall stature, Asgore had to crane his neck back. "What...is _that_...?"

It was as big as the Core. No, strike that. If it was the Core, then someone of Asgore's height and size would be a single grain of wheat compared to the gargantuan shadow descending upon the human child displayed, in varying angles, in the monolith's outermost screens. It twitched and writhed with the sound of shifting plant life, only far louder and far more visceral than what was natural. Hidden in shadows, its silhouette made its composition impossible to describe, but as it descended further and further, the crushing weight of dread it inflicted upon those bearing witness smothered any desire to know just _what_ this thing was made of.

"FLOW...EY..?"

A screen lit up upon the shadowy giant. It displayed a face composed of thin, vertical lines for eyes and a simple, unassuming smile. The smile parted, showed off thick, broad teeth. The 'eyes' split open sideways, showing off starkly-contrasting red and green irises. The giant 'stepped' out of the shadows, showing itself off fully for all to behold.

He was monstrous.

He was mortifying.

And despite the essences he had stolen, Flowey had never more looked the part of a soulless abomination.

 **HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA  
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA  
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA  
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA  
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA  
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA  
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA  
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA  
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA  
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA**  


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listening recommendation (kinda): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PF74cnGS2w0  
> (idk i just found it fun to listen to this and imagine the Photoshop Flowey fight with it(headphones highly recommended))
> 
> Content warning: Photoshop Flowey =)

"This is all just a bad dream..."

_"A n d   y o u ' r e   N E V E R   w a k i n g   u p !"_

  B  e    p  a  t  i  e  n  t  .

_"Hee hee hee. Did you really think I was gonna be satisfied...killing you only_ one _time?"_

  S  t  a  y    b  r  a  v  e  .

_"Hee hee hee, you thought you could run away?"_

  H  a  v  e    i  n  t  e  g  r  i  t  y  .

_"Pathetic... Now you're_ really _gonna die!"_

  K  e  e  p    p  e  r  s  e  r  v  e  r  i  n  g  .

_"Don't you get it? There's no such thing as happy endings. This is all that's left...!"_

  D  o    n  o  t    f  o  r  s  a  k  e    k  i  n  d  n  e  s  s  .

_"Don't you have anything better to do?"_

  Y  o  u    w  i  l  l    h  a  v  e    j  u  s  t  i  c  e  .

_It would've been impossible without the souls._

_Both for your best friend to become your best nightmare, and for you to last more than even a single minute against him._

_From vines and 'friendliness pellets' to bombs and literal finger guns and practically everything in-between, his endless bombardment of nonsensical attacks left you with absolutely no other option than to keep dodging. On rare occasion, you'd been able to fend off one or two of the attacks, and on even rarer occasion, fought back. But despite your efforts, you haven't been able to even nick him. All the while, the attacks never slowed nor ceased. The only time you ever had a chance to catch your breath was when he allowed the souls he had stolen to have their own fun with you._

_Therein had lied where he made his mistake._

_Twisting knives to healing bandages. Crushing hands to encouraging thumbs-ups. Barbed stars to melodious notes. Words of ruin and death to words of creation and life. Scorching flames to delicious treats. Blasting bullets to lucky clovers. Through just one simple act, not only did you make this aspect of Flowey's plan spectacularly backfire, but, as it would seem...you've also helped six lost souls remember themselves, if only a little._

  Don't let him beat you!

  We didn't want to be used like this...

  After all the sacrifice...it can't end like this!

  The king didn't deserve to go out like that, either...even after what he did to us...

  He was only doing what he thought was best for his people...

  After all this time...we're okay with what happened.

  What we're definitely not okay with is what this guy's doing with us!

  You can't let him win! You just can't!

  We'll do what we can, but the rest is up to you!

  You were able to do what what we couldn't, after all!

  Kick his butt for us!

  Does he even have one?

  Who cares! Just don't give in!

  Be strong!

  We're with you all the way!

  Stay determined!

_Without them, you wouldn't have found the resolve to continue standing against him._

_" **No...NO!!!** "_

_Without them, his defenses wouldn't have dropped low enough for you to do some actual damage._

_" **This CAN'T be happening!!!** "_

_Without them, you never would have even stood a chance against him at all._

_" **You...** "_

_Without them, you wouldn't be here now, standing victorious among the shriveled-up pieces of him you managed to sever while the rest of his body falls apart._

_" **YOU...** "_

_Without them, you'd be-_

**FILE 3 LOADED**

_His body is in pristine condition. Yours is, too. Upon the TV screen that acts as his main face, there is displayed an expression that says nothing short of 'you mad?'_

_" **You. IDIOT**."_

_Of course. He still has access to multiple 'save files'. During the fight, he had tormented you by using them to constantly trip you up, making you return to somewhere in this inexplicable battlefield you were mere seconds ago. Needless to say, this form of attack had been his most frustrating by far. And this implication of it, making it the perfect form of healing magic, really takes the cake. All that work, all that progress: undone. You're going to have to start this all over again from square one._

_...Well, that's alright._

_Yeah, this is do-able._

_You got to that point before; surely you can do it all again! But then he'll just load his save again... In that case, then this is all a test of endurance. And with the souls' help, surely you'll be able to-_

**FILE 3 LOADED**

_They come without announcement nor warning. They come as if they'd always been there, and you just haven't noticed until now. They come all at once, leaving you no time to judge just how many there are. No time to discern which body parts they're skewering. No time to acknowledge how much you’re bleeding. No time to gasp or cry out. No time to breathe. No time to react. No time to think. No time to feel. No time at all._

_A familiar darkness sets in. The last thing you become aware of is your soul breaking in half. And then-_

**FILE 3 LOADED**

_Flowey proves himself not to be a creature of empty threats, and kills you by parting his gruesomely massive jaws wide and bathing you in a beam of burning blue-white light that completely obliterates you, leaving you no time to-_

**FILE 3 LOADED**

_Flowey kills you by grabbing hold of your legs and flinging you high into the air, whiplash alone causing your spine to snap with the sound of muffled fire crackers, before throwing you back down to and splattering you across the ground with a sickening squelch-_

**FILE 3 LOADED**

_Flowey kills you by squeezing your neck so tightly, your head pops off like a champagne bottle's cork in a bloody burst-_

**FILE 3 LOADED**

_Flowey kills you by slamming his massive hands down on you, crushing you like a bug between his palms with a crunchy squish-_

**FILE 3 LOADED**

_Flowey kills you by entangling you in a writhing mass of vines that then twist your body in ways it was never meant to, wringing all your blood out of you like a wet towel-_

**FILE 3 LOADED**

_Flowey kills you by bringing his monstrous maw close, then snapping it shut, crushing your body between his teeth-_

**FILE 3 LOADED**

_Flowey kills you by turning you into living origami; twisting and snapping your limbs and spine into ways they should not be-_

**FILE 3 LOADED**

_Flowey kills you by force-feeding you a tightly-wound bundle of vines that separate, then spend a moment ravaging your innards before exploding out of you-_

**FILE 3 LOADED**

_Flowey kills you by-_

**FILE 3 LOADED**

_Flowey kills you-_

**FILE 3 LOADED**

_Flowey kills-_

**FILE 3 LOADED**

_Flowey-_

**FILE 3 LOADED**

_Flow-_

**FILE 3 LOADED**

_F-_

**FILE 3 LOADED**  
**FILE 3 LOADED**  
**FILE 3 LOADED**  
**FILE 3 LOADED**  
**FILE 3 LOADED**  
**FILE 3 LOADED**  
**FILE 3 LOADED**  
**FILE 3 LOADED**  
**FILE 3 LOADED**  
**FILE 3 LOADED**  
**FILE 3 LOADED**  
**FILE 3 LOADED**  
**FILE 3 LOADED**  
**FILE 3 LOADED**  
**FILE 3 LOADED**

_No time._

_No time at all._

_...Except for now, that is. For whatever the reason, the violent onslaught has stopped, leaving you time to catch yourself, prepare yourself for the next wave._

_Which, for some reason, isn't coming._

_...Why? Why isn't he attacking? Why isn't he boastfully showing off his powers anymore? What is he waiting f-_

_Your breath seizes. Your every joint locks. Your eyes go wide._

_So_ this _is what he was waiting for._

_He'd grown less creative the further along he went, but it can never be denied that those last few deaths were any less violent than the first few times he's killed you instantly. So instantly, there was never a moment to spare to fully realize how violent and brutal these murders were. But now, now that he's actually given you time to contemplate, to let it all catch up to you..._

_The single-most weak, pitiful whimper you've ever uttered rings out, then you collapse to whatever constitutes as the ground in this dark and empty place._

_You dryly gasp, sob, and retch as your entire body becomes wracked with tremors. Every inch of skin torn, burned, sliced apart; yet keeping you together without the smallest blemish. Every muscle and organ mutilated, ruptured, liquefied; yet functioning perfectly inside you. Every bone cracked, fractured, ground into powder; yet soundly giving your body structure. Every drop of blood spilled, drained, splattered across the ground; yet pumping untarnished through your veins. Still, every nerve is on fire, everything is screeching in pain. So much so you wonder when the shock of it all will welcome you to blissful oblivion already. But no. That's not happening. That'd just be_ greedy _._

_Loading really is the ultimate form of healing magic, because, physically, there is absolutely nothing wrong with you._

_But as it has become gruesomely obvious, not even this 'ultimate healing magic' could ever take away the pain of memory._

_How could you have been so stupid? How could you have ever believed you ever stood a chance against him? But he had literally left you no other choice. The instant he had stolen the souls after your fight with the king, you had found yourself waking up in this dark and empty place, feeling robbed of all feeling of time, of space, of reality, of self. There was nowhere else you could go, nothing else to do but face this harbinger of perdition, play along in this twisted game he created out of constantly assuring your demise._

_A game that started, you realize, the very moment you came to the Underground._

_All along, he'd always been in control. Every situation, every path to take; all were orchestrated by him. All so that you would eventually give him the opportunity he needed to gain unparalleled, unlimited power. You've been his pawn the entire time; the only reason he still bothers with you now is because you hold the final piece he needs for his power to truly become unlimited. A piece you're just far too stubborn to give up already._

_You've been fooling yourself the whole time. There was never a chance you'd escape the Underground. Your fate had been sealed the moment you woke up after the fall._

_The fall which, in hindsight, you never should have survived at all._

_Amid the searing pain, you feel it. That aching tug in your chest. That feeling of 'you shouldn't give up', 'you can't give up', '_ I won't let you give up _'. The action nauseatingly dizzying, you tear your bulging eyes away from the part of his constantly writhing body they ended up resting on (dear god would he just STAY STILL for ONE MEASLY MINUTE??), and as your shaky gaze rests on what the tug is manifested into, you cannot help but wonder..._

_How can the body be so wholly broken, yet the soul so infallibly willing?_

G e t   u p .

...I can't...

G e t .   U p .

I can't...

Y e s ,   y o u   c a n.

It...it hurts...

Y o u ' r e   f i n e ;   g e t   u p .

It hurts too much...

H e ' l l   k i l l   y o u   i f   y o u   d o n ' t   g e t   u p .

So what? It's not like he hasn't already...

Y o u   w a n t   t o   l e a v e ,   d o n ' t   y -

I don't _CARE_ about that anymore!!!

. . .

I...I don't care anymore...

. . .

Just...make it stop...

. . .

Just let me _die_... _please_...

A n d   l e t   h i m   w i n ?

...

L e t   h i m   t a k e   y o u r   s o u l ,   a n d   l e t   h i m   d e s t r o y   e v e r y t h i n g ?

...

Y o u ' d   l e t   h i m   b r i n g   a n   e n d   t o   m o n s t e r s ,   h u m a n s ,   e v e r y o n e ?

...

Y o u   w a n t   t o   b e c o m e   p e r s o n a l l y   r e s p o n s i b l e   f o r   t h e   e n d   o f   a l l   t h i n g s ?

...

......

.........

D O .

S O M E T H I N G .

_"...h...e l p..."_

_If only for a moment, the writhing stops._

_" **What. Did you. Just. Say?** "_

_............_

_" **BWAHA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! OH, THAT IS**_ **JUST.** **RICH**. _"_

_Already wracked with pain, the pain that comes when he slams a plethora of vines onto you is enough to make you cry out, if only the blow hadn't completely expelled all the air from your lungs. The vines continue applying pressure until, one by one, they lift away, bringing you along with them. They peel you off the floor, hold you up vertically by tightly gripping the hair on the back of your head._

_Finally._

_Something you're actually_ used _to._

_The vines grabbing your hair completely lift you up off the 'ground' and make you turn your head up, force you to stare straight into the grinning face of this nightmarish monstrosity you're at the complete mercy of. And 'mercy' is not a part of his vocabulary._

_A group of vines pry the worn dagger out of your locked-up fingers, then toss it away. Another grabs the heart locket around your neck and yanks it away, shattering its chain in the process. A halo of 'friendliness pellets' the size of ostrich eggs surround you, buzzing like saw blades around your throat._

**FILE 6 SAVED**

_"_ **_Hee hee hee. Did you really think you could defeat_ me _!?_** " _His booming voice perfectly matches the massive, imposing magnitude he radiates in this beastly form he's taken on. You feel like its enough to crush you where you dangle. "_ ** _I am the GOD of this world. And_ you _? You're_ hopeless _. Hopeless and alone..._** "

_It's hard to tell through the pain, but it feels as though more of his vines are coiling around your legs, your arms, your whole body._

_" **Golly, that's right!** " Upon the TV that acts as his main face, you see the likeness of a familiar goat monster become mutilated and rotted. " **Your**_ **worthless** _**friends can't save you now.** "_

_There are definitely vines coiled around you. But instead of strangling you to death, like you thought they were going to do, you feel them brush you down, straighten you up._

_They're making you look...presentable._

_" **Call for help,** " he smugly jeers. " **I dare you.** "_

_Your feet find purchase with whatever constitutes as the ground, sending jolts of pain up from your legs._

_" **Cry out into the darkness!** " His face morphs into that mutilated visage of the goat monster as his voice becomes like your own, except a far more twisted, mocking version of it. " **'Mommy! Daddy! Somebody help!'** "_

_All fixed up and really selling the fact that, if there's no physical proof, there's nothing wrong with you, every vine releases you._

_" **See what good it does you!** "_

_Standing on your own, still going mad with pain, there is literally nothing stopping you from collapsing again, and just letting it end._

_And that's just what happens. You start to sway, lose your balance, and pitch forward._

_...Is there even a point? He'll just load again, bringing you back to any instant he chooses, rendering this course of action completely useless. All of it has been completely useless. Wanting to leave the Underground, defeating the king, robbing the monsters of their chance for freedom; none of it mattered in the end. In the end, there is only_ him _, and he alone decides the course this world takes. You were just some powerless pawn fooling yourself into believing you were determined enough to change anything._

_Everything you've done's been for nothing. He alone reigns supreme. Even calling out to the souls must have been part of his plan; another trick in his finely detailed plot to fool you into thinking you had a chance. You've been set up to fail right from the start. Doing what he so mockingly suggested now just seems like another deception specially designed to, in one way or another, destroy you._

_...But._

_Really._

_What more can you do?_

\----

They watched as, at the very last second, Frisk caught themself.

The central view shook as Frisk trembled, gasping and sniveling as it took every ounce of their willpower to not let their neck come into contact with the deadly ring surrounding them.

"...P...lea...se..."

They watched as, slowly, so so slowly, Frisk forcefully righted themself.

"S...ome...one..."

They listened as their voice became less constricted.

"A-Any...one.. _._ "

They watched as Frisk became more able to stand on their own.

"Pl _ease..._!"

And they watched Frisk throw their head back, and cry out into the darkness:

" _HEEEEELLLLLP!!!_ "

Their call echoed into the darkness, into the room, into the hearts of the gathered. The gathered waited as the echoes died out, none waiting in more anxiousness than Sans (as he so believed).

...Who heard them? Who answered their plea, and got them out of there? Was it him? Was it Toriel? Was it Alphys or Undyne or Papyrus? Depending on which timeline this was, there were a number of possibilities of who had a strong enough connection with the kid to deliberately want to get Frisk out of...wherever this was. And he could judge this to be one of the earlier timelines; the kid was still pretty terrible at dodging.

So who was it? Who awoke them from this living nightmare? _Someone_ must have, because how else could Frisk be here in the present? Who heard them? Who saved them??? Because there was absolutely no way anyone would have abandoned them like that! No way...just...no...way...

" **But**

**n o**

_**b o d y** _

**C _A  M  E  ._** "

Just as Sans stopped spiraling into denial, so had past-Flowey's almost singsong voice made past-Frisk's body stop trembling.

" **Boy! What a shame!** " The flower's face formed to bear Toriel's likeness once again. " **Nobody else...** "

The flower's face mutilated again, showing off its broad-toothed smile and split-sideways eyes.

" **IS GONNA GET TO _SEE_**

**_Y O U_** ****

**_D  I  E  !  !  !_** "

And as the abomination's booming, manic laughter pounded against their ears, voiceless words worming into their minds made it clear the end of which timeline the gathered were observing:

  D o n ' t   y o u   g e t   i t   y e t ?

  N o   m a t t e r   h o w   m u c h   y o u   c a l l .

  N o   m a t t e r   h o w   m u c h   y o u   b e g .

  N o   m a t t e r   h o w   m u c h   y o u   c r y   f o r   h e l p .

  N o   o n e ' s   g o i n g   t o   c o m e .

  N o   o n e ' s   e v e r   g o i n g   t o   h e l p   y o u .

  Y o u ' r e   a l o n e .

  Y o u ' l l   a l w a y s   b e   a l o n e .

  N o .

  O n e .

  C a r e s .

  A b o u t   y o u .

  A n d   t h e y   n e v e r   w i l l .

And they watched, in powerless despair, as what remained of Frisk's hope break, well in, then spill from their eyes.

There was nothing they could do. Nothing anyone could do. The gathered could only watch Frisk remain still as stone as the pellets mockingly backed off a bit before going in for the kill.

They didn't acknowledge the distortions at first; or maybe they did, and had just subconsciously pegged it as something past-Flowey was doing with his god-like powers to further drive past-Frisk into despair. But as the final attack honed further in, it became more apparent that the distortions were not the abomination's doing. Everything seemed to be slowing down, the images displayed upon every screen going...wobbly, for lack of a better term. It was as though time and space within wherever this remembered place was was coming to a complete standstill.

There was just enough time to acknowledge the glaringly white hand, a perfectly round hole through its palm, materializing itself out of the darkness, and reaching its long, thin fingers toward the red glow of Frisk's soul before everything drowned in static.

**\--i--. --n -o- h--- -**

  Get away...

**W--t, -le--e, y-- -u-- -em--n c-**

  Get a _way_...!

**Y-- -o-'t -nd---ta-d; -'m t--i-n- -o-**

_GET AWAYYYYYY!!!!_

That was when the first monitor exploded.

Admittedly, it was the second one that fully roused the gathered from their numb fugue. The third and fourth were the ones that sent them into a full state of emergency. "What's happening?!"

An alarm blared as Alphys rushed back to her computer, her arms raised over and covering her head to shield herself from the sparks and other debris raining down from the exploding monolith. It took her a while to determine what what going on, but eventually, she found the answers she sought.

"Th-Their soul is s-surging with energy!" she announced between explosions. "I-I've never seen r-readings like this before! It...It's too much for the scanner to handle! It's overloading! It's causing a total system crash-Ah!!"

The scientist jumped back from her desk; the computer upon it had begun sparking dangerously, and gave her a zap.

Undyne quickly hastened to her side and pulled her away. The alarm was starting to be drowned out by all the explosions, which were starting to grow more frequent. It wouldn't be long before the whole thing went out with a bang.

"Everyone take cover!" Undyne commanded. "It's gonna blow!! Papyrus, defensive strategy Gamma!"

At once, Papyrus snapped to attention. He grabbed his brother - who for some reason was keeping his arm raised - and rushed to where Toriel and Asgore were now standing, which was a very generous distance away from the collapsing monolith. Undyne, with Alphys in her arms, joined the group. Nodding once to Papyrus, she focused her energies and made dozens of spears erupt diagonally from the ground between where the group huddled and the exploding monolith. At the same time, Papyrus made dozens of bones erupt from the ground at an angle opposite of Undyne's spears, creating a cross-hatched wall of spears and bones to shield them from the bedlam on the other side.

They did so at just the right time, it seemed. The monitors were now exploding in a rapid-fire sequence; the shield shook as each one sent out shock-waves and bombardments of debris. Papyrus and Undyne were having trouble keeping up the shield's integrity under this onslaught.

The air was rent with bangs and crashes louder than thunder. Bright flashes accompanied each one that were enough to blind any who looked directly at it. As a high pitched whine was detected, the monsters tightly shut their eyes and threw their arms over their heads.

**_BOOOOOM!!!_ **

\----

A muted red light pulsed slowly; a sign indicating that the lab was now running on auxiliary power used in case of emergencies. The lab's sprinkler system was created in a way that allowed it to be fully functional even if the main power was shot, and had activated as soon as the auxiliary whirred to life. It showered water like rain upon the lab's main room, which looked far less like a place for scientific research and discovery, and more like a barren war zone.

The once sturdy and secure monolith of monitors laid in a massive, smoldering heap of shattered glass, warped plastic, and frayed wires. It smelled of smoke and burnt plastic. The explosions had damaged the sprinkler system directly above where the monolith was erected, caused steady streams of water to flow like waterfalls out of the pipes near the part of the ceiling that had been blown apart. What was left of the soul scanner, the final machine that had exploded, lay scattered among the monolith's debris.

The scanner's explosion had nearly completely blasted apart the shield erected by Papyrus and Undyne. The sides of the spears and bones facing the impact site had been scorched black; the outer edges of the makeshift shield had crumbled and splintered. But the shield had done its job, and everyone on the other side of it was still in one piece.

But even though Papyrus and Undyne had succeeded in keeping the others safe, neither of them felt any sense of accomplishment as they dropped their shield, and practically joined the others in collapsing to the floor.

Sitting among the soggy papers scattered across the tile, feeling the water falling like rain upon them, and the gathered felt like this had been the first time in centuries that they finally had a moment to slow down, catch their breaths, and contemplate _everything_.

Every memory infringed upon...

Every death inflicted and received...

The one and only time they had ever deliberately cried for help...

There was cause for celebration that night; they had all survived the cataclysmic explosion that nearly tore the lab completely apart. But the gathered felt only one thing in that moment:

They had _failed_.

"Frisk...Frisk..?"

Failure turned to horror as everyone's attentions snapped toward the remains of the monolith, where they knew a certain piece of furniture still lay buried beneath it. " _Frisk!!!_ "

Toriel was the first to scramble to her feet, and rocket herself toward the monolith's remains, her steps sloshing and splashing in the water accumulated on the floor. "No! No! Please, _no_!"

The others followed after her as she began excavating the wreckage, sparks flying dangerously as monitor after damaged monitor was upturned and tossed out of the way. She didn't care for her own safety, and neither did the ones that joined her in clearing away the rubble; they had to get to Frisk. They had to make sure they didn't get crushed by the monolith's collapse. They had to make sure they hadn't failed them again.

They finally reached the spot where they remembered the couch had been sitting. Toriel had been tearing away at the detritus piled there when she felt the brush of magic beneath the waste. Confused, she cleared more away, and felt her confusion increase to see the white of bone beneath the monolith's remains. The others took notice, too, and realized that one among them had not joined the excavation party.

They looked to Sans now, and saw that he remained exactly where Papyrus had deposited him before the erecting of the shield. His arm was still raised, and it took only until that moment to realize that, all this time, it had been pointing straight toward the spot the others were excavating now. It was also realized that it wasn't just beads of water from the sprinklers rolling down his skull.

He felt everyone's eyes on him, and gave them a weak nod. The others nodded back, and worked to unearth the airtight dome of summoned bones that completely surrounded the couch, their initial terror ebbing.

That lasted only until Sans dropped his arm, and brought down the dome.

Horror flared again to discover how very vacant the cushions were. "They're...they're gone!" Toriel announced as she, uselessly, turned down the tossed-off blanket laying there. "Frisk a-and Flowey; they're both _gone_!!"

That made Sans practically jump to his feet. As he made his way to where Toriel and Papyrus lingered beside the couch, Undyne and Asgore began shifting through the wreckage not yet shifted through, calling out for the missing child. He reached them, and shared the same look of horrified confusion on both of their faces to see the veracity of Toriel's claim.

"that...that's impossible," he mumbled, one of his hands reaching out and touching the indent that marked where Frisk had been sitting. "they were both here when the monitors started exploding. they were still here when i reacted and brought up the dome; i _know_ they were. there's no way they could've just _vanished_ like this...unless..."

Sans looked up, immediately meeting his brother's gaze. It seemed he had come to the same conclusion just as soon as Sans had. "SHORTCUT?"

Sans vaguely nodded. He looked back down again, and stroked the crown of his head. Yes, that made sense. A shortcut perfectly explained the kid's sudden absence; possibly even Flowey's, too. Yet Sans was still very skeptical about whether or not Frisk actually _could_ use that ability. As far as he knew, he was the only one that could. But nothing else could explain how Frisk and Flowey could've disappeared without a trace while the dome was surrounding them. And before the first explosion, he could've sworn he heard Frisk's voice, screaming at something to stay away from them. The trauma and stress from everything leading up to that point might have made them unwarily use that power...

So, if that was the case...where did they end up?

"C'mon...c-c'm _on_..."

Amid the sounds of Asgore and Undyne's frantic searching, Alphys' voice was heard, in it a cajoling tone. It took a moment of aimless searching before she was spotted near her computer once again, kneeling on the floor in front of a monitor she had, apparently, lugged over to where she now sat. Its screen was full of spider web cracks and shrapnel of various sizes were lodged into its back, but otherwise, the monitor looked intact and operational. That much was proven as Alphys used the electrical magic she rarely, if ever, called forth to power the device. But, by the sound of it, it wasn't working very well.

"C'mon, please..." she practically begged the shattered screen, sweat glistening amid the water that had completely soaked her to her core. "P-Please work, _please_..."

Intrigued by her task, the others abandoned theirs and gathered around her. By the look of it, she had figured out what Sans and Papyrus concluded long before they had. And what she was doing now correlated with the unspoken question Sans had been contemplating. It was really amazing how on-top-of-things she was in that moment.

The others were patiently reverent as Alphys' magic coaxed life out of the damaged device. The cracked screen looked as though it was leaking colorful ink, and the image of very low quality, but otherwise, they could see the feedback from the camera this particular monitor was attuned to.

Alphys did not afford herself even a single second for patting herself on the back. Keeping one hand firmly clamped down on the wires she fed her magic into, she reached the other one for her laptop, struggling to grasp it because the previous chaos had pushed it far out of her reach.

Unprompted and wordlessly, Sans retrieved the device and handed it to the scientist. She did not give him a note of thanks, but he didn't mind; she had to maintain her focus if she was to keep the monitor running, after all. She took the laptop, mentally thanked her lucky stars that the device was waterproof, and connected the computer to the monitor via a miraculously undamaged cord already attached to the back of the monitor. She opened up a program on the laptop, then imputed a few commands which allowed her to control which camera feed the monitor displayed. She began scrolling through the camera feeds, searching for something - _anything_ \- that would give them all a clue to the missing child's location. She stopped when one of the feedbacks was nothing but static.

The static cleared.

Toriel screamed.

There were suddenly only five monsters in the room.

\----

Flowey had never experienced a shortcut before.

Sure, he'd seen them in use before, been on the receiving end of the attacks implemented with them. But never before had he been taken along for the ride whenever a certain trashbag used his inexplicable ability to jump from place to place at the drop of a hat.

It felt strange and foreign. It felt like...like being untethered from reality. Like being suddenly uprooted from everything he'd ever known then thrown back someplace else so quickly it made his head spin.

Huh. Actually, maybe the feeling wasn't as foreign as he thought it was.

Whatever Frisk had done, though, he felt he really couldn't describe it as actual 'shortcutting'. It had started the instant the first monitor exploded; for just a fleeting moment, it looked as though the room around the two of them wavered, became someplace else entirely. With every explosion afterward, it became more apparent that Flowey wasn't loosing his marbles or anything of the like. The instant they became caged in bone was what really confirmed it.

Frisk was phasing in and out of reality.

And Flowey was being dragged along with them.

Even if he felt the desire to cry out and alert the others to what was happening, he couldn't. He felt the space around Frisk twisting and contorting in on itself, and it alarmed him into silence. He felt like his body was being twisted and pulled in ways he'd never thought possible before now. He felt like it was going to tear him apart, like he was coming undone.

Then, just as jarringly as it had started, it stopped.

Flowey, still in his pot, was still in one piece. As was the person before him.

But even though it was over, he still felt very unstuck from reality. His head spun, whatever he had that counted as his stomach churned, he broke out into a cold sweat as the world around him wavered.

The world that, he eventually realized, was so very unlike the lab he was just in three...seconds(?) ago.

It wasn't just because of his first time 'shortcutting' that his vision was blurry. There was so much heat it was practically visible in the air surrounding him. The heat turned out to be another factor that caused him to break out into a sweat. As he recovered, he soon found that he recognized the patterns in the rock wall far out beyond him, and as soon as he spotted the boiling red lava flowing beneath him, he knew where he was.

Before he could even contemplate why he ended up in Hotland, of all places, sharp, heavy breathing coming from directly before him captured his attention. He looked forward to find the one who had brought him here practically looming over him, and still shrouded in sporadic static.

He recoiled from them, but soon found it unnecessary. The static was slowly, but surely, going away. Frisk looked too out of it to actually pose any threat to him. Their eyes were open wide, boring intensely yet blankly into his, as their breaths became more heavy and hitched.

Finally, the last of the static dissipated. Frisk knelt before him completely unmasked, perfectly themself. Their breathing slowed to a near stop.

Their eyes rolled back, they swayed, then they fell sideways.

Straight over the edge of the lava-spanning bridge they sat upon.

In any other instance, he would have just let them fall. In fact, that first split second that they started falling, and he did absolutely nothing. But that split-second ended, and when it did, vines shot out of the soil in his pot and grabbed Frisk by their arm.

"You just _had_ to settle on _that_ one, didn't you?" he spitefully asked the unresponsive human. "You just _had_ to let them see all that, huh? You know what would've been a million times better than letting them see _that_? ANYTHING ELSE! Hell, even letting them see the one where you find out who I used to be would've been better than letting them see-whoa!"

Despite their diminished physique, Frisk was a lot heavier than he thought. As he had been trying to pull them back over the edge, his pot slid across the bridge's surface, causing Frisk's body to dangle dangerously over the edge again. Seemed he had not yet fully recuperated from 'shortcutting'. And being in the dry, smoldering heat rising from the lava lake beneath them wasn't exactly helpful, either.

He felt himself start to sweat even more so than before. "Frisk, c'mon, wake up," he urged as more vines emerged from his pot, going over the edge behind him to act as tethers. "Your horrible shortcutting skills took a lot out of me; I can't keep holding us here forev-wh- _whoa_!!"

His anchors were not strong enough. He slid some more across the bridge, and Frisk's body leaned further off the edge. He could feel their arm slipping out of the jacket sleeve he had grabbed.

Now, he really started panicking. "Seriously, Frisk, wake up!! You're still alive in there, right?! You gotta wake up if you are!! If you don't, we're _both_  dead!!"

His pot scrapped across the bridge, bringing him closer to Frisk's limp body as his vines squeezed nothing but fabric. Having little time to act, he shot his body forward as Frisk's turned, and he clamped his mouth down hard on the back of their shirt.

"FRISPF, PLEASMPH, 'M BEHGGINHG MYOU!" Though they were muffled by the cloth between his teeth, his urges were no less urgent than before. "MWAKE UMPH!!"

Their jacket had slid off them completely. It fell slowly into the lava below, bursting into flames the moment it made contact. Flowey watched it become consumed by the pyre, felt the edge of his pot teetering on the edge, and felt crazed with terror. " _MWAKE UUUUUUUUUUPMH!!!!_ "

He had not the strength to pull them both back over the edge. There was absolutely nothing he could do. He felt his pot no longer find any purchase first, which started the chain reaction that sent him over the edge, bringing Frisk's limp and lifeless body along with him.

So this was it.

This was how it was going to end.

...At least...now he had the chance to finally see whether or not Frisk could still reset-

He had closed his eyes the moment he felt himself leave solid ground. They snapped back open once he felt himself dangling in the open air, mouth still clamped fervently on the back of Frisk's shirt, still alive and very not on fire. The angle at which he dangled made it impossible to tell what had happened, but somehow, something had saved him and Frisk from certain demise.

Burning air rushed by him as whatever it was that had stopped their free-fall pulled Frisk up, bringing Flowey along for the ride. He heard the sound of feet as Frisk was pulled away from the ledge, and as soon as he saw solid ground beneath him, Flowey unlocked his jaw and let himself land on the ground so he could finally see what had spared him and Frisk a very nasty fall.

And if he had the capacity to experience it, Flowey would have never felt happier to see a certain trashbag standing there.

Sans had Frisk in his arms as he continued backing away from the bridge. He did not stop until his back met the water cooler, and he slid down it until he was sitting fully on the ground. He continued to hold Frisk as his breathing became more laborious; he looked exhausted, in every sense of the word.

Flowey watched him carefully, waited until he couldn't take it anymore. "Are...are they...?"

The tone in the flower's inquiry made Sans' breathing hitch. His eye sockets snapped open; he looked like he had realized something. Forcefully calming his breaths, he looked to the child in his arms, brushed hair out of their face, then pressed the side of his skull against their chest. His gaze turned focused, his breathing practically stopping. Flowey's did, too. The silent moment that then passed felt as though it lasted for an eternity.

It ended when Sans' sockets closed, the tension in his shoulders relaxed, and the greatest sigh of relief Flowey had ever heard come from the skeleton breathed out of his mouth.

Flowey found himself sighing in relief, too. "Oh, thank _god_ ," he remarked. "And here I was starting to worry I was risking my hide to save an empty corpse-"

"that happened every time, didn't it?"

Normally, the flower would've been irked at being interrupted. However, something in the skeleton's low, even voice made him clamp his mouth shut.

"every timeline, after their judgement, they went on to meet with the king." It sounded more like Sans was talking to himself than to Flowey, yet Flowey could feel that every word was directed entirely at him. "every timeline, they fought. every timeline, the fight ended with asgore's defeat. i...i always thought that's when it ended. that every timeline ended with the souls disappearing after their fight, and that frisk had taken asgore's soul and used it to cross the barrier.

"but it didn't, did it?" There was a definite edge in his voice now, as he partially opened his now pitch-black eyes that made it impossible to tell what he was looking at. "that's not how things played out, was it? every time they beat asgore, you'd show up, wouldn't you? every time, you'd steal the souls, then _drag_  frisk into whatever that place was. every time, you'd... _you'd_..."

There was no need for him to elaborate. His arms tightened around Frisk, pulled them closer to him.

Flowey unwarily gulped. "W...W-Well, n-not...not _every_ time, aheh. I-I mean, when you pretty much  _know_ the souls are just going to revolt again in the end, then there's no real point in going through that fight more than onc-"

"and we never answered you, did we?"

Flowey clamped his mouth shut again. Seemed as though the skeleton no longer found interest in him, and instead kept it all on the small, limp body he cradled in his arms.

"no one ever came rushing in to save you, did they, frisk?" His pupils had returned, quivering like candle flames as he lifted his head to focus them on Frisk's face, one of his hands gently stroking their hair again. "not toriel, not papyrus, not even me... so that's the reason you never hated or resented me, huh? feeling abandoned when you needed us the most, having everyone completely give up on you...that was just the _norm_ , wasn't it?"

His expression morphed into a heartbroken grimace. His breaths shuddering, he held their head against his chest and buried his face deep into the hair atop their head, his eyes tightly shutting. " _i'm so sorry, frisk_..."

Seeing the tear-jerking embrace, and Flowey finally felt the irk that came with being ignored. "Well, isn't this interesting. Mister 'I-can't-afford-to-care' actually gives a damn."

Sans partially lifted his head up, his gaze looking out past where he sat. He became very still after that.

"Here I thought the only thing you actually cared about was that lame brother of yours. And even then, I had my doubts." A smile appeared on the flower's face, one wide and sharp and just as taunting as his voice. "After all, you constantly did nothing and countlessly  _let him die_."

"...i don't remember asking for your opinion."

Flowey scoffed at this. "Where do you get off acting like your _genuinely_ sorry, huh? 'Cause if memory serves, you weren't so apologetic when you were tossing them around like a ragdoll, now were you?"

Sans didn't say anything.

"You're not as above this as you think you are. You know you're not. Chara was right; every last one of you are a bunch of hypocrites, liars, and murderers. And you? _You're all three rolled up into one._ "

Sans didn't say anything.

"I wonder what everyone thinks of you now. What Toriel thinks of you. What _Papyrus_ thinks of you. What thoughts will go through their heads when they look at you now? 'How could he have done such things?' 'Did he feel as remorseless as he looked when he was trying to kill them?' 'How can someone so lazy and harmless-looking be so _ruthlessly merciless_?'"

Sans didn't say anything.

"You're not so high and mighty. In fact, the way you fought, it reminds me of someone. But who...? Oh, that's right. It reminds me of _myself_."

Sans remained silent as his eye sockets went dark.

"We were both ruthless in our attacks. We were both unflinchingly adamant about getting what we wanted. We both pulled out all the stops to _kill_ them. _Torture_ them. **_Break_** them. In _every_ sense of the word."

There was the rustle of fabric as one of Sans' hands clenched.

"Face it, Sans." With every provocation, Flowey's smile just kept growing bigger, his voice darker. " _You're just like ME-_ "

"at _least_ i gave them a _choice_!!"

Sans turned his head back toward Flowey with this justifying statement, his expression twisted into a glaring scowl that would've made anyone wet themselves.

Flowey, however, was not 'anyone'. He didn't even flinch. "Really?" he spat, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Then tell me something: Exactly what would you have done if they did what you asked, laid down their weapon, and showed mercy? _What would you have done if they decided to spare you?_ "

The skeleton seemed to turn to stone with this statement. He did not move, he did not blink, he did not even breathe. Though the lack of pupils in his sockets made it hard to tell, amid his stiff silence, it appeared as though his mind was racing. Returning to that fight, rethinking the choice he offered, contemplating what he would have done if they had spared him, laid down their weapon, accept the hug he would have offered them...

Flowey snorted haughtily. "Thought so." There was a wicked gleam in his eyes as he let out a snicker. "Hee hee hee, there's no point in denying it. There's _never_ been a point in denying it. You said it yourself every single time, _Sans_."

His expression morphing into the most wicked and demonic thus far, Flowey screeched, " _ **You wanted them DEAD since the very beginning!**_ "

The next thing Flowey knew, the bottom of his pot was hovering precariously over the edge of the mesa, above the boiling hot magma far below.

He finally stopped smiling.

"you really haven't fully contemplated your current situation, have ya, bud?" Whereas Flowey lacked one, Sans was practically smiling ear to nonexistent ear as he kept his arm outstretched and cloaked in blue flame, the same that ignited the big, pulsing eye in his left socket. "betcha do now, huh?"

In hindsight, perhaps Flowey was being a little _too_ provocative, especially given the circumstances. But he couldn't help himself; old habits die hard. Feeling a sweat along his brow, Flowey cast a fleeting glance to the lava before looking back to Sans. "You wouldn't _dare_..."

The skeleton chuckled humorlessly. "wouldn't i?"

To prove how serious he was, Sans briefly let his grip on Flowey go before reinstating it, causing the potted plant to plunge a few inches closer to certain death before coming to a jerking stop. Beads of sweat really started to roll down his face now.

"i've got absolutely no problem letting you crash and burn, buddy," Sans stated in a cold, even voice. "none of the others would question my judgement to do so, either. hell, after seeing all that, i'd go so far as to say not even _papyrus_ would be upset with me for letting you go. and you know how easy it is, don't'cha? i just have to run out of steam, and it's curtains for you. and i'm already tired, see? i can get too exhausted to keep you aloft any...second...now..."

Flowey could tell whenever the skeleton was bluffing, which in his experience, was often. _This_ was definitely not one of those times. Panic showing clearly on his face, his eyes darted back and forth between certain death, and the one thing keeping him from meeting it.

...

......

.........

"...but today's your lucky day."

Very, very slowly, the potted plant moved forward.

"'cause, if only for this kid's sake-" Sans' head jerked a little to gesture to the body held in his other arm. "-i'm willing to let bybones be bybones."

Flowey waited only until the entirety of his shadow was cast onto solid ground to release the breath he'd been unwarily holding.

"however."

Flowey had no time to react as he was suddenly hurtled toward Sans, who caught him by the stem and squeezed it tightly before bringing his face up to meet the skeleton's hollow sockets.

"this is the one and only time i'm letting you off the hook. neither can you expect me to voice any arguments should any of the others decide to not be so merciful." He squeezed tighter. "do _not_ make me regret sparing you,

" _Prince Asriel._ "

The flower had only time to widen his eyes before Sans threw his arm out, stretched it as far away from himself as he could, then released his grip. The clay pot he sat in cracked a little from the impact. Sans retracted his arm, returned it to its original position in hugging Frisk close, and re-hid his face in their hair. He became completely, unshakably silent.

Giving Flowey the perfect atmosphere to turn his head away, look down, and reflect, his face forming a scowl in the process.

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listening recommendation: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EMSLYwHNMBc
> 
> Content warning: slight alcohol use, mentions of abuse, and lots and lots of angst

_It had been such a little thing._

_Toriel was in the kitchen preparing for a bake sale her school was hosting the next day. Frisk was helping her. Soon the entire house was filled with the smell of pie and cookies and other baked goods. Not to mention, the laughter and warmth shared between mother and child._

_Then an accidental nudge of an elbow knocked an entire tray of cookies onto the floor. Toriel, the perpetrator, rightfully blamed herself for not paying more attention, and recovered what was salvageable. She had asked Frisk if they could help her by picking up the ones that had rolled to where they stood. When the did not do as she asked, that was when she looked to them, and her salvaging slowed to a complete stop._

_Their breaths had become soft and shallow, their face haunted and pale. Where once had been a happy and carefree smile, a thin, faintly quivering line replaced it. More than their mouth, their entire frame had seemed to be shuddering, despite the sudden rigidness their posture had taken on. Their head was turned down, their wide eyes staring at the knocked-over treats as though they pools of poison._

_They did not react when Toriel initially asked for their help. They did not to react when she called to them again. They were completely unresponsive. It was as if they had...just...shut down._

_It wasn't until she walked over and reached out to them, the fur on the tips of her fingers barely brushing against their cheek, that they finally became responsive. They had jumped as though the faint touch had shocked them, their body noticeably tensing. They had blinked several times, then looked up at Toriel's face, stared at her as though they were seeing her for the first time. They kept staring at her this way as she worriedly asked if they were alright, and for the next several moments after._

_It was when she had once again reached out to them that let out a good-natured laugh, claiming that they were getting tired, and got a little more spooked by the clatter the tray had made when it hit the floor than they would have been if they were more alert. After a silent moment, Frisk reasoned that if they were so tired that a falling tray nearly made them jump out of their skin, maybe they ought to go to bed. They said goodnight to their mother, and went upstairs without another word._

_Toriel just stared after them, wondering if they thought she looked as unconvinced as she felt._

_All the baking now done and the goods cooling off, she sat in her reading chair, sipping wine as she turned through one of the many new books she'd collected since returning to the surface. Though the book was one worthy of completely holding her interest, she could not keep her mind off of how Frisk had reacted to the falling tray, and to her barely touching touch. If she didn't know better, they acted as though she was going to..._

_As she dwelled on the incident, she came to realize that she had seen other little 'things' about Frisk that could be considered worrisome. They always seemed so quiet, especially in public; never really speaking up unless spoken to first. They seemed to have a penchant for wearing long-sleeved clothes, even if it was very hot or humid outside; they always kept themselves as covered-up as possible. They seemed very cautious, more so than she suspected anyone else at their age would be; they almost always waited for her permission before running off to play with their friends, of all things. From what she could tell, they always seemed to want to do what everyone else was doing, rarely (if ever) tossing in their own opinions. And they were very obedient, maybe even_ too _obedient; always doing whatever she asked without question and without her having to ask more than once._

_She would have expected a child their age to be even a little rebellious and playful, but no. Even with all the secrets previously silenced by shame they had shared with her and the rest of the monsters they considered their family, she realized that she could still feel a divide between herself and her adopted child._

_She wondered how much of that divide was created by everything they experienced during their 'resets', and how much was created by their life before that epoch..._

_A weary sigh left the former queen's mouth as she leaned back in her chair and massaged her eyelids, closing her book as she did. She really did want to let herself be absorbed by its story, but her mind was too distracted to give the piece of literature the attention it deserved. With a creak, she rose from her chair, placed her reading glasses on the little side table beside it, and returned the book to its spot on the bookcase. "Perhaps another time."_

_She turned to return to her chair when she felt another presence in the room, and found it standing in the middle of it._

_"Oh!" she gasped, one paw flying up to her chest. "Goodness, Frisk, you startled me. But that is my own fault; I did not hear you come down..."_

_She had been smiling when she spoke, but as she got a better gander of her child, her smile fell. "Frisk, are you feeling alright? Your eyes are quite puffy and red..."_

_They did not look her way when they answered, after a moment of silence, "...Allergies."_

_Toriel arched a brow, unconvinced. "Would you like some allergy medication, then?"_

_"...No, thank you," they politely declined, hesitance seeping into their words. "I'll be fine..."_

_Toriel frowned. "Is there something you need?"_

_They would still not look her way. "......Thirsty."_

_Toriel's frown deepened. When she followed Frisk's line of sight, saw what it rested on, her frown lessened and her brows arched in slight surprise._

_"Well, Frisk, thirsty or not, I am afraid this is one drink I cannot allow you to quench your thirst with," she explained as she crossed back over to her reading chair, and picked up the bottle of wine sitting on the table beside it. "This is...something only adults can partake of. Under no circumstances are you to ever take even a single sip of this, or any other drink like it. At least, not until you are quite a bit older. Do you understand, small one?"_

_Frisk barely moved their head up and down in an obedient nod. Their line of sight stayed rooted on the same spot._

_Toriel stared at them for a while. "...I shall go fetch you a cup of water, then."_

_With that, Toriel left for the kitchen, bringing the bottle and the glass one-third-full of wine that had been sitting beside it with her. She turned on the light, found an empty spot on the counter to set down her drink, and dug out a plastic cup from one of the cabinets. She filled it halfway with water, then hesitated in returning to the living room/den, and to the child waiting there. She had only taken a few steps when she stopped, and found herself staring studiously at the bottle in her hand._

_Wine was something she had not enjoyed since long before the war, when monsters were still on the surface. Truthfully, it had been something she had been looking forward to after the monsters returned to the surface; she missed the taste, and the bubbly, giddy feeling it gave her after a few glasses. Of course she knew her limits, and was very careful in how much she drank in one sitting, even more so now than before with the responsibilities of motherhood she had to maintain. In fact, she hadn't even started keeping alcoholic beverages of any kind in her house until only a few weeks ago, after quite some time had passed since the monsters returned to the surface._

_This had been the first time Frisk had ever seen her with the drink. It wasn't like she was trying to hide it from them or anything, but she had been hoping to explain her likeness for the beverage under different circumstances. Possibly when she hadn't already had some, even though she had barely had any to begin with (just a couple of sips, not even enough to make her feel the slightest bit tipsy). And to see the way Frisk was staring at the bottle..._

_She sighed inwardly as she poured what was left in her glass into the kitchen's sink, then stored the bottle (after making sure its lid was securely fastened) back onto the high shelf she kept other bottles like it._ Perhaps another time...

_Cup of water in hand, she returned to the living room/den to find Frisk exactly the way she left them. They were still staring at the spot the wine had been sitting on the side table. They did not seem aware of her presence._

_She left the water cup on the coffee table, and walked up to them. "Frisk...what is troubling you?"_

_Frisk did not reply. They kept staring at the side table as if a rattle snake was coiled up on its surface._

_Toriel stooped down a little, so that her head was closer to theirs. "I do not want to be officious, but I do wish you would tell me what troubles you."_

_Though Frisk was still not looking her way, she saw their brows furrow in puzzlement. "...O-what-what?"_

_"Officious," she pronounced carefully. "It is synonym for 'meddlesome'."_

_Their face smoothed in understanding, but they still would not look her way._

_She held back a sigh. Gently, she brushed some hair out of their face and tucked it behind their ear. "Frisk...if there is something bothering you, I would like to know what I can do that would ease your troubled heart. I will not force you to say anything if it makes you uncomfortable, but I want you to know and feel like you can tell me things, my child. You will let me know if you are upset about something, won't you?"_

_They remained stone-faced and silent. She held back another sigh, and straightened herself._

_"...Mom?"_

_She paused in her ascent. "Yes, Frisk?"_

_Their gaze finally turned away from the table; it focused on their feet now. "Can I-..._ May _I ask you something?"_

_Toriel hid the small shock she felt to hear such formality. "Of course you may. What is it?"_

_Frisk held their hands in front of them, rubbed them slowly and hesitantly. "If...If it had been me that knocked over the tray earlier, what would you have done?"_

_Toriel's brows rose high on her forehead. Then she smiled. "If you had caused that accident, I would have helped you clean up the mess, and even turned a blind eye to any cookies you might have tried to sneak off with. Hee hee hee."_

_For a moment, their rubbing paused. "...Really?" they asked quietly._

_She snickered again and smoothed out their hair. "Yes, really."_

_All was quiet for a few moments. Then Frisk resumed rubbing their hands. "You wouldn't have sent me to my room?"_

_Toriel's hand froze atop their head. Her smile faltered. "Would I have...? No, I would not have-"_

_"You wouldn't have...yelled at me?"_

_She pulled her hand away. "I...no. I wouldn't-"_

_"You wouldn’t have...t-tried to...h...hi...."_

_Frisk started shaking. So did Toriel. "Frisk-"_

_"A-A-And, i-if you h-had a l-lot t-to drink, a-and I d-did something y-you d-d-didn't like, y-y-you w-w-w-w-wouldn't-"_

_"Oh,_ Frisk _!"_

_As hoarse, helpless whimpers rendered Frisk unable to say anymore, Toriel dropped to one knee and pulled them close in a warm, tight hug. "No._ Never _," she assured them as they began to moisten the front of her blouse, and she began to moisten their hair. "I would_ never _strike you if you disobeyed me, or yell at you, or anything of the sort. Even if I was under the influence."_

_Frisk still trembled in her arms, but it felt as though her words had somewhat calmed their tremors after a while._

_"...Is that what your parents did?" she asked softly, cautiously. "If you disobeyed them, they would yell at you? Hit you? Especially if they were intoxicated?"_

_Frisk didn't speak, but the way they seemed to shrink in her embrace was enough of a confirmation for her._

_Toriel's arms tightened around them, a scowl of mortified fury briefly crossing her face. It was starting to make sense now, the way they reacted to the fallen tray, why they recoiled from just the faintest brush of her hand afterward. They had been terrified, expected a cruel form of punishment from her. Because that must have been what happened whenever they disobeyed their parents. And to expect it even though they didn't cause the accident...she morbidly wondered how many times it must have happened for Frisk to be so_ trained _to expect violence even if it wasn't their fault._

_She breathed in deeply to calm herself, her breath shuddering somewhat on the exhale. "Well, know that you shall never see any disciplinary measures of that variety from me, my child," she reassured as she began to gently pat their back. "And I will never taste another drop of alcohol again if that is what it will take to assure you further."_

_Their tremors seemed to lessen further; they practically stopped altogether._

_"If there is anything else I do or have done that makes you uncomfortable, just tell me. I want there to be communication and trust between us; don't you, too? Because, if I am being perfectly candid, it feels like there is distance between us. Do you feel that way, too?"_

_Instead of saying anything, Frisk sniffled loudly._

_A gentle, albeit sad and subdued, smile curved Toriel's mouth. "I do not want you to be afraid of me, my child. Or of what I might do if you act even a little rebellious. The worst form of punishment you will ever see out of me will be in the form of grounding you from TV and other electronics for, at most, a month or two. Of that, I give my solemn vow." She hugged them closer. "I promise you, Frisk, I will_ never _try to harm you for disobeying me."_

_"...You did before."_

_Toriel's arms stiffened around Frisk, her eyes going wide and her smile disappearing._

_"And I'm not talking about something that happened in other timelines," Frisk continued in the small, hollow tone of voice they used before. "In this one, when I wanted to leave the Ruins...you tried to harm me for disobeying you."_

_Stiffly and gradually, Toriel started to pull away. "F...Fri-"_

_"But I know why you did."_

_Toriel froze again._

_"It...took me a while, if I'm being honest with myself," they admitted with a sad little chuckle, "but I finally understand why you had to attack me. You didn't want me to become another child you had to bury. You were just trying to protect me...and I was just too stubbornly determined to obey..."_

_Toriel said nothing._

_"But it all worked out in the end, right? The monsters are free, I didn't have to die, and we're living happily together on the surface." Their shoulders sunk slightly. "...You knew what was best for me back then, and I didn't comply. I was the one at fault; I can't resent you for the justified actions you had to do to protect me-"_

_"It does not change the fact that it happened and that_ I _was the one at fault."_

_She spoke firmly and without a hint of sharpness. She scooped Frisk up into her arms as she got to her feet, then crossed over to her reading chair. She sat Frisk on her lap as she herself sank into the soft cushion. "Frisk, please, look at me."_

_She hooked a finger under their chin and turned their face up toward her own. She did not speak again until Frisk finally lifted their bloodshot, puffy eyes to meet her own._

_"You have made several true claims, Frisk," she began patiently. "Yes, I was afraid that you were to be another child I had to bury. Yes, I believed that I was justified in my actions to prevent you from leaving the Ruins. Yes, I believed that I was protecting you by attacking you. But do you wish to know something it, admittedly, took a long time for me to understand? The truth is, I was being an ignorant, foolish old lady to think trying to hurt you was in any way justified."_

_They blinked a few times; they looked surprised._

_Toriel sighed wearily and began gingerly smoothing out their hair. "You came to us in desperate times, my child. Times in which our world was dangerous for any human to be a part of. And why you came to us in the first place was because of such a...sad reason. You were suffering when you came to us, suffering in ways near invisible to the naked eye. You needed help, not a death sentence."_

_Her gaze drifted away from Frisk and focused on nothing, forlorn reminiscence lining her expression. "...And who should find you first but one who intended to deceive and use you in such...depraved, immoral ways to carry out their own selfish desires..."_

_Frisk sniffled again. "Mom..."_

_She looked back to them, a small, sad smile on her face. "If I were to have one wish for you, Frisk, it would to be that we met under different circumstances. That I would not be so afraid of losing you that my judgement would be so clouded as to believe I was protecting you by trying to hurt you. Because I know now that hurting a child for being disobedient, no matter the circumstance, is in no way justified."_

_Frisk's eyes widened. They seemed at a loss for words._

_She removed her hand from their head, her own turning down to the space between the two of them. "You care too much for the well-being of others, Frisk. I am not saying that this is an inherently bad trait, but it becomes one when you forsake your own well-being to make someone else feel better. It is not wrong or selfish of you to want things for yourself that are considered normal and healthy. If you want to have people to call your friends and family, that is fine. If you want to be a little mischievous, that is fine. If you want me to never even touch another bottle again...that is perfectly alright."_

_She placed one of her paws on their hands. "I want you to feel at ease and safe, my child, and if that is to be what it will take, if that is what you want, then so be it. You should not have to feel as though you have to be perfectly compliant and obedient for my sake, or out of fear. This place is not your prison, nor am I your warden. You have freedom here, Frisk; freedom to grow, to learn, to want and desire and to be yourself. You can allow yourself to think about and act on not what everyone else wants, but what you want. So, I implore you, ask yourself..."_

_She met their gaze again, and held it firmly. "What do_ you _want?"_

_Frisk looked stunned; it was as though they'd never been asked this question before in their life. With Toriel fervently holding their gaze, she could practically see their mind racing behind their eyes, considering everything she had told them, coming to a decision._

_With fresh tears in their eyes and their mouth in a wobbling line, they pulled their hands out from beneath hers, threw their arms around her neck, and buried their face into her fur. "I...I want to stay with you!"_

_"...Then, for as long as you want me-" Tears of her own in her eyes and a smile on her face, she wrapped her arms around them and kept them close. "-I will do my best to take care of you."_

_Frisk cried themself to sleep in Toriel's arms that night, while Toriel hummed them a soft, familiar little lullaby to soothe them. She knew there was to be so much more work ahead for the two of them before a firm foundation of trust was laid and built upon, but that was alright._

_At least this was a start._

\----

It wasn't as though the lab was far away from Mt. Ebott; it was actually one of the closest buildings made for the monsters to the opening where the barrier used to be. But if the chaos originating from the lab as the monitor monolith was exploding wasn't enough to turn heads, the block-wide power outage caused by the monolith's collapse sure was.

The five that had remained in the lab after Frisk's location had been confirmed wanted nothing more than to do as Sans - as they so witnessed - had done, and rushed in immediately to their rescue. Toriel especially. But the wailing of sirens from approaching fire engines and police cruisers and ambulances had stopped them in their tracks, made them realize how many questions would be asked, how very suspicious it were to look if someone witnessed one of the gathered running like hell from, from an outsider's perspective, the scene of the crime.

So, damage control had to become their first priority. They all had to be evacuated from the lab, and the building had to be secured. Statements had to be given, and in the time before prying eyes found them, the group decided what they were to tell anyone who was, undoubtedly, going to ask what had happened. They all agreed to tell most of the truth; that Dr. Alphys had been experimenting with new ways to harness energy from the Underground that had backfired and caused the explosion, that the monitors were in place to monitor the effect her experiments had on various locations beneath Mt. Ebott. The others were to attest that the reason they were there with her was to offer their assistance, ease the burden in any way they could.

Of course they left out Sans' presence, Flowey's existence, and the fact that all of what they had been doing there that night revolved around Frisk. The world was still not ready for the knowledge about resets. And, frankly, it probably never would be.

Toriel was the first to be released from all the hounding and restless questioning that came from both the humans and monsters that had gathered to see what all the fuss was about. "My child needs me," was what had really made those in authority let her go; the commanding authority and demanding respect of a queen, former or not, was one not so easily usurped. Her equanimity was immaculate, a fearsome sight to behold.

That lasted until she was far, far away from the eyes of the public, and she started running like hell to the base of the mountain.

She had not run this far or this hard in a long time. The last time she had done so was when monsters were still trapped behind the barrier, when she had been running back to the castle to stop her ex-husband from killing Frisk, or vice versa. She briefly thought how ironic it was, how in both instances she had been running this hard to help her child in need.

Even more ironic, considering everything that had happened, that she had witnessed, within the last hour or so alone...

Out of some desire not to let those thoughts slow her down, she instead used them as fuel to push her further and further through halls and paths she'd known most of her life, slowing only to board the elevator that would bring her closer to her destination.

She stood so close to the elevator's doors that if they were to suddenly open and shut, she'd be left with part of her nose missing, a bit of fur clipped off at least. Her hands were at her sides, periodically clenching and un-clenching into fists. She was bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet, ready to leave as soon as the doors opened. The anticipation was torture, the amount of time spent in the elevator, agony. She attested the prickle of anticipation she felt within her very soul as the lift bypassed the Core to be caused by a rush of adrenaline brought on by being that much closer to her destination.

Finally, the elevator slowed to a halt, and the doors swished open. By the time they opened to their full width, she had already taken off. Into the blisteringly dry air of Hotland, and down the red dirt path that lead to the crossroads beyond the small set of steps she now tromped down. She hesitated only briefly when she came to the spot at which the four roads heading in each cardinal direction of a compass converged.

That moment of hesitance ended when she spotted part of a familiar blue hoodie down the path to her right. "Sans!"

The skeleton stirred at the sound of her voice. He fully woke from his unintentional nap to hear the sound of her feet coming straight toward him. But even though he was awake, he still felt exhausted and drained from all the haphazard and, frankly, dangerous shortcutting he had to do to get to where he was now.

He lifted his head when he felt Toriel's presence beside him, his eyes unfocused and blinking heavily. He turned his skull her way, and tried to offer her a lazy smile. "h...heya, tori," he greeted her, the drawl in his voice from fatigue instead of his usual laziness. "what took ya so long..?"

Toriel did not respond for the first few moments. Her chest heaved with every heavy, laborious breath she took, her fur damp with sprinkler water and now with sweat. She just stared down at the skeleton, her eyes wide and her hands subtly shaking.

"Are..." she began, pausing between words. "Are they...?"

"they're alive," Sans answered softly, numbly, as he focused his gaze to the limp body in his arms. "yeah, they're...they're alive..."

His voice strained on the last note. It almost sounded like he was going to say something else, but for whatever reason he was unable to make himself say it. The look in his eyes became forlorn as he adjusted the body he cradled in a way that looked like he was offering it to the person standing over him. He did not look her in the eye as he did.

Toriel had not necessarily keeping her gaze on the skeleton sitting before her, but on the child he held. Even though he was now holding them in a way that invited her to take them from him, she found herself rooted to the spot. She did not move, she did not blink, she did not even seem to breathe. All her attention was arrested by the body he held, that he offered to her, but she could not bring herself to accept it yet.

She looked upon Frisk, and did not see the thin, illness-riddled child asleep in Sans arms. She looked upon them, and could only see what she saw on the surface before everything came crashing down. She saw her child screaming in agony as memories threatened to tear their soul apart. She saw her child neglected and abused, broken in ways completely invisible to those looking only for physical injury. She saw her child completely unknowing of hope or love or the will to live. She saw her child maimed and mutilated, broken and bloodied (how could someone so small have so much blood..?), robbed of every ounce of what little hope they had attained. Hope they had never even known before surviving the hopeless fall that brought them to the Underground. She looked upon them, and could still hear their cry for help, and could still feel the guilt that their cry went unanswered tearing away at her very soul.

It was in that moment that the old mother who had lost enough children already knew the true extent to how thoroughly she had failed this one. Where was she when they needed her, indeed.

Toriel collapsed to her knees. Her arms trembling, she scooped Frisk out of Sans', smothered them in her embrace, and wept.

"Forgive me," she tearfully begged between sobs, her upper half folding over Frisk as she cried. " _Please forgive me_..."

Sans could only sit and watch as the heartbroken mother cried herself out, daring not to say or do anything in fear of making matters worse. As her tears ran dry, and her breathing became broken, pitiful sniffles, Toriel lifted her head, and finally met Sans' gaze properly.

Under that puffy eyed gaze, Sans felt as though he was shrinking. That flower was right; what must she think of him now? She had already known that he and Frisk fought once, but that one brief admittance of it that night two years ago had been the only mention of it. That is, until a few hours ago. And it wasn't as though the two of them had been purposefully avoiding the subject, either; how does one casually say 'hey guess what i tried to murder your kid once but it's okay now because technically it never happened'?

To look at each other now, and they both knew they could put it off no longer. Another overdo conversation two years in waiting was going to have its time.

Sans shifted uneasily, his mouth undecided in what it should express. "tori, i..." he began humbly, his pupils straying away from her. "i don't know what to say..."

"You're deserving of an apology, too, Sans."

His pupils focused back on her, his expression settling on a surprised, uncertain gawk.

"It was...unfair of me to ask you to keep that promise so long ago; I see that now." She had focused her eyes back on the child in her arms, which she wasn't smothering as much anymore so they had chance to breathe properly, but still directed her words at the skeleton before her. "How was I to know what kind of person the human I asked you to protect would be before either of us even met them? Maybe, if I had not said anything that day, so much heartache could have been avoided. Maybe I would have recognized that they did not have the best intentions in mind. Maybe you or I could have done something to stop the senseless killing before it began. Maybe...you could have saved your brother..."

Now, Sans was starting to grimace. "tori..."

A sad little chuckle burst from Toriel's mouth. "I suppose, in a way...it was noble of you to only break your promise when circumstances were at their absolute worst. Despite all the grief and loss it caused you, you kept your word until the very end, when the world was on the brink of ruin. And for that...I am grateful."

Sans shook his head. "tori, no." He sat up a little straighter, turned more toward her. "don't be grateful for _that_. didn't you see all that back there? i  _should_ have broken my promise earlier! i only broke it in that timeline because at that point, i had completely given up on them. i didn't believe they could change, that they could get better, and i didn't _want_ to! i wanted them _dead_ , tori! don't try to convince yourself that you should be grateful that i was too much of a lazy ass to-"

Toriel held up a paw, which made Sans shut up straight away. The following silence was tense (for Sans at least) as he waited in guarded anticipation while she considered both his words, and hers.

"...My only experienced memories of Frisk are those from _this_ timeline," she said carefully. "Whereas I myself here in the now had only just met them once, you met them for the first time over and over again. You were able to watch them as they progressed through the Underground, through every timeline. Even then, it must have been difficult for you to recognize what was happening to Frisk as Chara's influence grew stronger...until it was almost too late. It is easy for me to understand that now, after witnessing...everything..."

Sans gulped.

"You and Frisk have a...unique relationship. The experiences you two share were always meant to stay between the two of you. As such, how you two decide to make up to each other for the wrongs you've dealt one another should also remain between the two of you."

Sans' would be brows rose, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Regardless of the vow I wrongfully held you to, you do not answer to me for what you have done, Sans." Toriel finally looked back to him, a shaky half-smile on her muzzle, and resolution in her tear-stained eyes. "You answer only to yourself, and to Frisk. Only you can help each other move past the wrongs you have done to each other." She placed the hand she had previously raised on Sans' closest shoulder. "And I can only hope that, after this much time has passed, you have made at least _some_ progress in making things right between the two of you."

Sans stared at her, gaping, before a somewhat bitter chuckle made his chest spasm. The corners of his mouth pulled up into an equally bitter half-grin as he turned away, covering his closed eyes with a somewhat shaky hand.

"heh, you're tryin' _way_ too hard to make me feel better about all this," he stated numbly. "'specially since i really don't deserve your praise. but...it sure feels nice to know you don't resent me or nothin'. thanks, tori. and...sorry."

She squeezed his shoulder; a sign of comfort and acceptance.

He sighed as his hand slid down his face, sockets open and wearily staring out into the distance. "...yeah. progress has been made on that front, alright. that's 'cause i thought i knew the full extent of how much of a jerk i've been to the kid. but in light of...recent events..."

His head turned slowly to stare at the ghostly pale, sunken-in face hiding behind scraggly brown hair and his brother's cape-turned-scarf, the gaze in his sockets forlorn and ashamed. "i'm honestly at a loss for how i'm s'posed to make up for this one..."

The half-grin on Toriel's face faded away. The same strain of forlorn shame lined her expression as she also stared down at Frisk's face, removed her hand from Sans' shoulder, and used it to attempt to smooth out her child's hair. "You and I both, Sans. You and I both..."

\----

Sans and Toriel only had a few moments of silent contemplation before the sound of several encroaching footsteps roused them. They looked to find the group of Undyne, Papyrus, Alphys, and Asgore in swift approach, and though their strides did not all match, what did was the heated urgency on each of their faces.

"I trust that everything has been taken care of back on the surface?" Toriel inquired as the group caught up and spent a moment to catch their breaths.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Undyne formally huffed, the one in the group most obviously affected by Hotland's heat. Before speaking again, she quickly grabbed and filled a cup of water she then downed in one gulp. "They all bought the story about an alternative energy experiment gone wrong, and that we as a group were all going to Mt. Ebott to investigate the effects. No one questioned us, nor were we followed."

Toriel nodded. As Undyne filled another cup to pour directly onto her head, Asgore took a hesitant step toward his ex. "Toriel...is Frisk..?"

"They are still alive," she answered softly. "They are just resting."

A chorus of relieved sighs rang out.

"But this is hardly an ideal location for them to rest." Toriel started getting back to her feet, looking to Alphys as she did. "I would like to make use of your old lab for this reason, Dr. Alphys."

The scientist froze like a deer in a car's headlights under the former queen's gaze. She loosened up eventually, struggling to get out her words. "Y-Y-Yes, o-of course y-you can use my old lab, Your M-Majesty. B-B-But first I, uh, th-think it'd be a good idea to, u-um..."

She let the small device she then pulled out of her lab coat's pocket fill in the words she left unspoken. Toriel looked at it, recognized it, then glowered at the scientist and hugged Frisk closer to her chest.

Whereas Alphys immediately buckled under that glare, Undyne challenged it. "Hey, don't give her that look! We all know that using the big one up there was an explosion-inducing fiasco, but that's not what we're gunning for here! All Alphys wants to use the little soul scanner for is to make sure Frisk's soul is stable! After that shitstorm, surely you can agree that that should be one of our top priorities, right??"

Toriel turned her sharp glare to Undyne. After a few moments, her gaze softened, and she knelt back down.

Taking the invitation, Alphys scrambled forward. "C-Could you, uh, m-move their shirt?" she humbly requested, letting the wire held between the tips of her claws answer why she made such a request.

After careful scrutiny of the presented wire, Toriel did as she was asked. She moved the scarf around their neck out of the way, and gently tugged down on the collar of Frisk's shirt, slowly exposing their-

She froze. So had the others. None more so than Alphys. But while the others remained statuesque, Alphys' device slipped out of her hands, she dropped to her knees, and became wracked with loud, dry sobs, for she had run out of tears to shed.

As she had deemed Frisk too unwell to keep their soul constantly exposed for the duration of the scan, Alphys had decided instead to use a more...indirect method to attune her machine to the human's soul. Three wires with clear, sticky pads at their ends were placed strategically in a cluster on the skin in the very center of Frisk's chest, in the general area of their sternum.

"You're gonna feel a little...well, I'm not exactly sure what you're gonna feel," she had told them as she was done attaching the wires, and preparing to turn on the machine. Frisk had been silent and patient in everything she'd done up til that point, but with that admittance, they had reached out and taken hold of Papyrus' hand; they were scared, and desperate for reassurance. To see and understand this, she had counted down to when she actually turned on the machine and began the scan, to give them enough time to brace themself for whatever would happen. 3...2...1...

She remembered how they had tensed up as the machine whirred to life, attuned itself with their soul. They had inhaled a sharp breath that they held for a considerable amount of time, the same for their grip on Papyrus' hand; they gripped it so tightly tendons of strain popped out beneath the skin on the back of their hand. When asked if they were in pain, they did not respond for a while. Not until they had released the breath they'd been holding, eased up on the grip they had on Papyrus, and wrote down their answer:

_no_  
_it's just_  
_tingly_

She should've known they would have lied. She should've known that they would have done so so she wouldn't worry. She should've known.

Because, maybe then, she would have been prepared to see that the area on Frisk's skin where the wires were once placed were now scorched red and, in some places around the edges, black.

She had already been shaken by everything witnessed upon the monolith, but catching the briefest glimpse of the wounds her actions had personally inflicted was the hair's breadth required to send her over the edge and into a complete breakdown. She sobbed as Toriel laid her palm against the burns, her hand glowing with healing magic. She sobbed as Undyne knelt by her side, pulled her close into a hug. She sobbed even harder as Toriel pulled her hand away, only to find that the burns were still there, that all her magic had done was make the black areas not as black anymore.

Turned out that, all along, all she had done was make everything _worse_. Just like she always did...

Alphys' sobs became the mournful ode that spiraled everyone further into grief and shame. Asgore's head hung low, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. The same went for Toriel, except she also strengthened her hold around her child. Undyne, who could only offer her grieving wife comfort through the hug she gave her, strengthened it and hid her face against the crest atop her head. Sans had empty sockets that looked at no one and nothing, feeling too drained and numb to led his hands do anything but hang down lifeless from the wrists. As for Papyrus...

Sans was the first to notice. His eyes lit up dimly, and focused on the taller skeleton standing a small distance away. "bro..?"

The others eventually followed suit, and found themselves looking up at the taller skeleton in confusion. To look down at what he stood before, and their confusion became alert, enraged shock.

One of Asgore's feet slid backwards, his expression more wary than it was angry. Toriel pulled Frisk closer to herself, and turned in a way that put herself between her child and what she glared at. Alphys, her sobs cried out, let out a squeak that was too hoarse to be the shriek she was going for and practically jumped into Undyne's arms, clinging to her tightly. Undyne looked the most enraged of all, the hug she held her wife in turning protective as she accused, a growl in her voice, "You let that thing _live_ , Sans?"

Sans did not respond to her accusations. His attention was spared only for his brother, and the expression on his face only Sans saw because of the fact Papyrus had his back to everyone else. Only Sans could see that his brother was not a part of the collective anger and horror practically radiating from everyone else. Only he saw how his brother stared at what was at his feet not in any kind of malice, but in teary-eyed, heartbroken disbelief.

"FLOWEY...HOW _COULD_ YOU...?"

The instant Toriel had come in running, Flowey had made himself as small and silent as he possibly could, so as not to draw any attention to himself. That turned out to be easier done than said, what with the former queen's attention being seized wholly and undivided by her child. As the others started making their way to this impromptu gathering place, he thought it fortuitous to make himself scarce before he caught anyone's attention. As quickly yet quietly as he could, he had been dragging himself around to behind the water cooler, thinking to be out of sight before, perhaps, tilting his pot over and burrowing himself into the ground, washing his hands (leaves?) of this whole thing. He had only made it around to the side opposite where Sans still sat when he felt eyes on him, and knew his plan had been a waste the moment he saw Papyrus' boots before him.

He knew he was in trouble. He knew that his grave had been dug the moment everyone was exposed to the surreal horror-terror he once turned into. He knew that every murder, every save loaded was another nail in his coffin. But to see the way Papyrus was staring at him now, to hear the tone in his voice when he said those words...

Forget about frying pans and fires. If he didn't have Papyrus in his corner, Flowey might as well be taking a dip in the lava lake down below he was so royally screwed.

"Oh, I think we _all_ know 'how could he', Papyrus." Undyne's voice was a cold, level growl as she glared daggers into the potted flower's face. "Don't we?"

No one had anything to say to this. Flowey especially. He kept his mouth shut so tightly it was like he was trying to make it disappear into the easily moldable whiteness that was his face.

"I had wondered how you knew about the timelines and the resets and that bastard demon child. How you knew the impostor wasn't them. The answer is all too clear now." Slowly and threateningly, Undyne rose to her feet, leaving Alphys on hers and stepping out to keep her behind her. "You were in cahoots with them, weren't you, _weed_?"

Flowey remained tight-lipped and unresponsive.

"Betcha you two were the best of buds; soulless abominations of a feather and all that. You plotted everything right from the start, didn't you? Conspired to use Frisk to get your hands on the souls, while your old pal Chara took Frisk's, _didn't you_?!"

Flowey remained tight-lipped and unresponsive.

"And you thought you could make it _allll_ better, huh? Thought that trying to save Frisk now would've earned you some brownie points? Thought that'd be enough to make up for everything you so _shamelessly_ did to them!?"

Flowey remained tight-lipped and unresponsive.

A short, strained silence followed the flower's lack of response. It ended when Undyne emotionlessly inquired, "Do I hear any objections to chucking this little abomination straight off the cliff?"

The former Captain looked around, judging everyone's faces individually and studiously. To see the universal sense of impassive silence they all shared, and she had everyone's answers.

"Good." She stepped forward, reaching to move Papyrus out of the way before she-

Her hand barely extended, she cringed and froze. So had everyone else. The reason they had done so was because of the faint, yet anguishly familiar sound that registered in their ears. "Oh, no."

Prompted by Alphys' hoarse squeak, all attention turned to Toriel, who had started turning the body in her arms away from herself. As their face was exposed, she gasped and nearly dropped the body out of shock. Also out of the strange, almost draining feeling that had completely overtaken her.

A mask had been donned in the brief interlude of static. A mask that was cracked, gleaming white, empty-eyed, and smiling unfathomably.

"NGAAAAHHH THAT'S _IT_!! I'VE! HAD! _ENOUGH_!!!"

With feet stomping hard enough to split the ground apart, Undyne stormed over to where Toriel knelt, grabbed hold tightly to the front of Frisk's shirt with both hands, yanked them out of her grasp, and hoisted their body high above her head. The ferocity in the glower she gave the returned impostor was intense enough to outmatch the fury of an erupting volcano.

"Listen here, who or _what_ ever you are," she snarled. "I don't know where you get off thinking that you can just _use_ Frisk like your own personal slave, but I know I speak for all of us when I say we've _had it_ with all this possession bullshit! This-" She gave the body she dangled a firm, yet wary shake. "-is not some empty vessel free for the taking! Not some meat puppet you can wear and walk around in like a suit! Not some hollow doll you can manipulate and toy around with until it _breaks_!!"

 A soft, subtle note of grief entered her voice. " _This_ is a kid. A sweet little human kid. Who's been hurt and used and broken more than they, or anyone else, deserves. This is _their_ body, _their_ soul, _their_ life! And _you_! You have _no right_ to screw around with them like this!!"

There was a rustle of fabric as Undyne clenched her fists tighter, her glower intensifying. "What do you want with them, anyway?! Is your own body not good enough for you!? Are you trying to use Frisk's soul to cause another reset?! Whatever the reason, _nothing_ justifies this cowardly, underhanded deception!"

Another rustle as Undyne moved to hold them up in just one hand. "You made the mistake of endangering someone I- _we_ care about. Never mind the potential risks to lose _everything_ we care about; your decision in holding Frisk captive inside their own body is irrevocably unforgivable. Now you seem like an aware impostor, so I'm gonna give you one last chance."

A spear willed into being in her free fist, she clenched it tight, and shot it straight up into the impostor's 'face', stopping its sharp tip only fractions away from its wide-open eye.

"Get. _Out_. And _STAY. OUT_. Or I'll _rip you out_ myself."

Save for the constant hum of static surrounding the impostor and the bubbling gurgle of the lava flow far below, everything was deathly silent. Undyne held her ground unyieldingly, despite the sweat of strain and fatigue beading on her scales. The rest of the gathered monsters watched her carefully, readying themselves to intervene should the need arise.

As for the impostor, they appeared completely unfazed. Their unreadable expression never changed, they did not make Frisk's body move, absolutely nothing could be discerned about what they thought about Undyne's 'offer'. They just stayed there, dangling high off the ground in her sturdy grip, smiling unfathomably down at the person holding them aloft, and did nothing.

The buzz of static sharply rose and fell in pitch without pattern or sense. Undyne loosed another snarl. "And _enough_ with all this damn static already!! It's giving me a migraine!"

"They said that the only one currently endangering Frisk is you, Captain Undyne."

A joyless bark of a laugh burst from Undyne's mouth. "Okay, out of all the utter _bull_ I've seen and heard tonight alone, _that_ one really takes the ca-...wait..."

Undyne's fury-lined expression smoothed over into astonished realization. Daring to take her eye off her captive-holding captive, she - along with the others - turned her attention to the small potted flower at Papyrus' feet.

"You..." gaped Asgore. "You _understood_ that??"

Flowey looked as surprised as everyone else did. "...Yeah? Vaguely?? I-I mean, it still sounds like it's being muddled by a whole lotta radio interference, but I can make out the words they're saying..."

Everyone just stared, agog, at the flower. They didn't even notice Frisk's head subtly perking up.

Lines of anger once again etched Undyne's expression. "If you're just saying that to try and get yourself off the hook-"

"N-No, no! I'm not making this up!" Flowey said quickly, his head shaking side to side. Had he any arms, he probably would've been holding them up in a sign of peace and defense. "I can't explain how I'm able to understand them, but I do and I'm telling you exactly what I heard them say! It's the truth, I swear!!"

A moment was spared to contemplate the flower's claims, decide if he was telling the truth, mull over what he had to gain from lying at this point, and judge whether or not they could believe anything he'd say or do at this point, or ever again.

"...IF WHAT YOU ARE SAYING IS TRUE, FLOWEY," eventually theorized Papyrus, "AND YOU REALLY _CAN_ UNDERSTAND THEIR UNIQUE WAY OF TALKING..."

The skeleton turned toward the others, an uncharacteristic sharpness about him. "THEN YOU CAN TELL US THEIR ANSWER WHEN I ASK YOU THIS, MYSTERIOUS POSSESSOR: WHO ARE YOU?"

Realizing the opportunity, desperation caused the others to pounce at it. "What are your intentions with my child?" demanded Toriel.

"Is it because of you that Frisk is ill?" asked Asgore.

"Wh-Why d-did trying to locate you c-cause all... _that_?" stammered Alphys, who gestured vaguely in regards to the events of just little under an hour ago.

"how long have you been inside 'em?" interrogated Sans, questions rolling off his nonexistent tongue faster than he could stop them. "why'd you start making yourself known now? are you the reason the kid can use shortcuts? you tryin' to make them cause another reset or something? or are you just so sick that you're doing all this just for the hell of i-"

"One at a time you MORONS!" snapped Flowey.

"Hey!" growled Undyne. "What makes you think you're in any position to be making demands, you little-"

A burst of static rose over everyone else's voices that made them all cringe. A translation was not needed for the gathered to sense within the noise the implication of a throat being cleared.

Respectfully, if not begrudgingly, everyone became quiet. Though no movement came from Frisk's body, everyone felt the impostor's gaze sweeping over them, assessing them, judgmentally waiting to see if anyone was feeling interruptive. After a moment, the gaze lifted, and the static picked up again, its pitch more subdued and calm than in previous times; maybe it was their way of trying to make what they had to say easier on the ears.

Eyes drifted to Flowey as the impostor 'spoke'. He spent less than a moment to meet those eyes, weigh his options, sigh, and begin his newly appointed role.

" _You wish to know who I am, and of my intentions. Understandable. I had hoped to retain a certain anonymity throughout the entirety of this enterprise, but perhaps, I have been fooling myself to believe this outcome was anything short of inevitable._ "

Flowey used a voice that wasn't like his own, yet also unlike the one he was hearing amid the static. He was sure if he tried to mimic that one, he'd lose his voice after the first few words it was _that_ impossible to replicate.

There was a brief lull, in which Flowey caught his breath, before the impostor continued. " _Very well. You seek my identity, and you shall know it. Rather than I simply tell you, however, it would be far more enlightening to show you._ "

The impostor continued 'speaking', but Flowey had stopped. He waited until after they were finished before giving his translation. "...They want you to put Frisk down, Undyne, so that we can follow them."

Undyne scoffed. "Like hell that's gonna happen! You can just tell us where to go and we'll go there!"

"They said you're just going to wear yourself out if you stay within an, approximately, three-yard radius of them," Flowey translated after another interlude of static.

"U-Undyne, dear," Alphys meekly squeaked. "I-I think you should d-do as they said. It's r-really dangerous to constantly expose y-yourself to...wh-whatever it is that's surrounding them."

Undyne tried to hide it, but the others could see the faint trembling in her limbs. "Then just turn it off or reign it in or something!"

More static. "...Would if they could, but they can't. Keeping your distance and letting them act on their own is the safest option."

Undyne's fortitude was starting to waver, and not just out of exhaustion. She looked around at the faces surrounding her, searching in desperation for someone else that agreed with her. She found nothing.

Even more static. Flowey's eyes widened in slight surprise.

"...Frisk is worried that you're going to hurt yourself."

That sure made Undyne's resolution come crashing down. She found herself looking back up at the body dangling in her grasp, met the empty eyes of the 'mask' it wore, searched vainly for the slightest glimpse of the true face obscured beneath it. Her own was overtaken by conflict.

Bitter acceptance eventually found a home on the former Captain's face. She willed away her spear, and lowered Frisk's body back to the ground. "No funny business," was her final warning before she let go, and backed away.

Frisk's body slumped forward into a rigid slouch, but otherwise remained upright and on their feet. The impostor was still as the gathered took their precautions, and distanced themselves from where Frisk's body stood; Undyne had nearly collapsed when she was out of the reaches of their influence. They remained still as the others prepared themselves for whatever the impostor was going to do, where they were going to go.

When almost an entire minute passed that the impostor remained still as stone, the gathered started feeling awkward. "what's the hold-up?" inquired Sans, to which static almost immediately answered him.

Almost as immediately, " _You would really leave behind your interpreter?_ "

Several eyes blinked in realization. Whereas they would've felt silly for overlooking something so important any other time, they certainly did not feel that way to realize that somebody had to bring Flowey along if they were to ever properly communicate with the impostor.

Silent looks were shared between the gathered. Who would it be? Absolutely none of them were all that keen on the idea of toting him around, but dumping him out of the pot and letting him have free run of the place was completely out of the question. Somebody had to do it. Somebody had to carry the little flower along.

...And it looked as though it was going to be Papyrus, who had started to stoop down, his shaking-so-much-they-rattled arms reaching toward the pot as his feet-

"I'll do it, Papyrus." Asgore quickly crossed over to the skeleton and put a paw on his shoulder. The gesture calmed his quakes, and Papyrus gave the former king a small, yet meekly grateful smile before stepping aside, giving Asgore room to reach down and scoop the pot into his hands. Already a small pot, it looked absolutely tiny and insignificant in Asgore's palm.

Flower and monster regarded each other silently, flower in subdued hesitance, monster in stern warning. The soft, dry scrape of a foot dragging through dirt called their attentions back to the impostor, who was making Frisk's body turn counterclockwise.

With a short burst of static, the impostor, facing towards the crossroads, moved forward. " _Come._ "

It couldn't really be described as walking, the way the impostor moved. Frisk's bare feet slid through the reddish dirt without ever fully lifting off the ground; it was like they were ice skating, but without the ice or the grace. They shuffled onward sloppily and somewhat aimlessly as the others followed silently behind. It looked like the saddest, most morbid little parade the world would never see.

The parade came to the crossroads, where the left path lead back to the elevators, and the right opened up to the dock the enigmatic Riverperson formerly frequented. But the impostor pursued neither of these paths. They directed the parade ever forward, toward the massively imposing building growing ever larger with every foot of distance covered.

"M...My old lab?" Alphys observed. "Y-You want to go to my old lab?"

The impostor did not respond. They kept moving forward at an uneven, sluggish pace.

Unprompted, Alphys darted out ahead of the impostor to get the doors open for the oncoming procession. The doors whined in a grinding mechanical whir, but opened fully before the impostor reached the now open door frame. Alphys ducked inside before them, then set about quickly to get the lights and A/C back up and running.

No one raised any comment on the state of Alphys' former abode as they all filed in. The impostor did not slow once inside the building; Frisk's bare feet made a slight squeak as they dragged across the tile floor. The massive monitor against the back wall had been shut off a long time ago, but as the impostor passed it by, its screen came alive with frenzied static that perfectly mirrored the impostor's movements, and just as quickly became lifeless once again as the impostor moved on.

"S...S-So, um, wh-what could you possibly want here?" the scientist humbly wondered as the impostor kept moving through her old home. "Y-You do know I m-moved shop a long time ago, r-right? O-Or m-maybe the place you're leading us towards is d-deeper into Hotland, and w-we're just cutting through the lab to get to-"

The impostor shambled past her, ignored the hole in the wall, and stopped, their face pointed straight at the 'bathroom' door directly in front of them.

"......Oh."

Alphys remained where she was for a few long moments. Then she crossed over to a panel beside the door, and imputed the command that would summon the elevator.

The other monsters shared worried glances. Yes, they knew of what laid beyond the ineffectually misleading door, but they didn't really _know_ what laid beyond the ineffectually misleading door. They had never seen the complex in which Alphys had kept hidden away what she considered her greatest mistake during her career as the Royal Scientist. And based on how she was acting, it was obvious that she had been desperately hoping that they never would.

There was a muffled clunk as the elevator arrived. The 'bathroom' door slid open. The impostor entered without hesitation. Alphys, on the contrary, waited a few moments before following. The others filed in slowly after her.

Even though the cabin was modestly spacious (more than likely to allow for the easy transport of large and bulky machinery), it was still somewhat of a tight squeeze to fit everyone in there while also keeping out of the impostor's 'personal bubble'. Asgore had to stay in a low crouch to keep his horns from scraping against the ceiling; everyone was more or less rubbing elbows with each other.

The impostor waited by the back wall until everyone was piled in. Robotically, one joint moving at a time, Frisk's arm was raised toward the wall. A stiffly straightened finger pressed a button, the door closed, and the elevator lurched toward the only destination it could go: down.

The ride was not a smooth one. Not just because the elevator shook so much it made everyone constantly bump against each other, but also because of how the tense atmosphere surrounding the gathered became even more dense within the confines of the shuddering cabin. Barely anyone moved (on their own volition), barely anyone breathed. The only sounds heard were the clanging of the elevator as it descended, the soft, persistent buzz of static surrounding the impostor, and the soft clicking made by Alphys nervously tapping her claws together.

"...Frisk's soul. I-Is it...okay?"

Her quiet venture made tensions rise once more. To have to solicit the impostor for answers to _that_ , and the gathered felt an uneasy mix of disgust and reserved hopefulness. They all stared at the back of Frisk's head, and waited with baited breath.

Eventually, a hum of somewhat articulate static awaited Flowey's translation.

"... _Exhausted due to over-exertion. Somewhat pliant due to excessive torsion. Otherwise, intact and stable._ "

Mixed reactions abounded from receiving this answer. None more vocal than Undyne's, who scoffed, "Sure. _That_ earns us a response," under her breath as she squeezed Alphys' shoulder.

There was another hum a few seconds after this remark was made, more subdued this time. Almost apologetic.

" _Do not think I am purposefully trying to ignore you, Dr. Alphys. Every action I take like this requires great and careful consideration, and places significant strain on me. I have my limits, and I do not wish to exhaust them too swiftly._ "

Undyne harrumphed at this. "Sounds to me like you could save yourself a lot of trouble by leaving Frisk alone and just _piss off_ already."

No response was earned for that remark.

The elevator slowed to a grinding halt, and the doors opened with a rusty moan. Everyone filed out one at a time into the dark, murky gloom of the room opened up to them. The impostor waited until everyone was out before exiting the elevator themself. Little time was wasted before the impostor moved down the only path available, and the 'parade' recommenced.

The walls were riddled with cracks. Wires and cables and cords hung down from the ceiling. Darkened screens fastened to the walls came alive only with static as the impostor passed. If the gathered thought the state of the cleared-out lab upstairs lacked in homeliness, that was nothing compared to the cold, uninviting, lifelessness this _true_ lab seemed to have an overabundance of.

Though their gait remained stiff and reminiscent of movements from a poorly-strung marionette, the impostor never faltered or seemed to be lost. They led the parade through the halls, past the double doors to the power room and the popato chisps vending machine beside them, all without missing a beat. It was as if they'd walked through these halls a hundred times before.

Deeper and deeper into the complex they trudged, not once giving the implication of slowing or stopping. That is until the procession reached the large room full of unmade beds, and the impostor ran straight into one.

There was a soft thud as Frisk's calf rammed into the wooden bed frame. The impostor stopped immediately, causing everyone else to, as well. There was a moment of stillness before Frisk's head turned down, their foot slid back, and they turned away. The impostor's gait seemed more cautious now as they, instead of weaving their way through the not uniformly-spaced beds, shuffled first along the edge of the western wall, then up to the northern. Once through the northern doorway, the impostor's confidence returned, and they led the gathered down to the room where the DT Extractor oxidized.

If only for a moment, the group stopped to stare at the machine that bore a strong resemblance to a giant, rusted skull. Some stared in awe, some stared in fright, two stared in uneasy reminiscence. Even the impostor seemed to pause, giving regard to the machine, before pressing on.

One short walk through another northern doorway, and it seemed a destination had finally been reached; the room beyond was a dead end. Save for a screen and lock mechanism wired into the far wall, a TV propped up on a desk, and two bookshelves lined with VHS tapes flanking either side of that desk, the area was also very empty. That was good; it gave everyone plenty of space to stretch as they flocked into the room, ever keeping constant attention to the one that led them here.

The impostor stopped in front of the TV, the screen upon it drowning in frenzied static. There was a still moment in which the impostor did nothing more than stare at its reflection, or what little of it could be seen amid the pixilated black and white snow. Then Frisk's arm slowly extended; outwards first, then upwards, one rigidly straightened finger pointed to the top of the left-hand bookshelf.

Everyone's eyes followed that finger, and what appeared to be the corner of a cardboard box was spotted. Being the tallest, and subsequently the one with the longest reach, Asgore held Flowey's pot in one hand and retrieved the box with the other. Toriel took it from him and, upon opening it, reached into and pulled out a couple of VHS tapes not unlike the ones lining the shelves.

The static everyone labeled as the impostor's voice picked up again.

" _These should provide sufficient insight to the knowledge you seek,_ " Flowey translated. " _View as many as you like, though I highly suggest viewing all in the provided order. For now, I shall take my leave. All of you deserve to learn...and remember the truth._ "

Before anyone could question this cryptic choice of words, a deafening snarl of static rent the air. Whether by some act of defiance or simply being used to it, no one covered their ears or took their eyes off the impostor; they all did little more than wince in discomfort. The already faulty lighting in the room sporadically flickered.

Then, all at once, it stopped.

The TV's screen was dark and clear.

The room was blissfully silent.

The impostor was gone.

And with the impostor's departure, the strings of manipulation were severed, and Frisk fell.

\----

.........

......

...

Heavy.

That's a good word to describe how everything feels.

Dark, too. And distant. It feels like you're deep, deep underwater (minus the actual water and the sensation of drowning), intense pressure weighing you down, smothering you, crushing you.

Words drift lazily through your half-awake mind. Were you talking with someone? Was someone talking to you? Something about...no. It's too far away. Everything's too far away. So, so far away...

Formless shapes swim in front of your eyes. Muted colors bleeding into each other in a slurry of wavering blobs that look like oil. It's peaceful to look at. Calming, especially after......did something happen? You can't remember. Everything's just so...so far away...

........

The abyss is so welcoming, so inviting, so soothing. It makes the sharp contrast of color drifting into view almost painful to look at. But it's also captivating, being so different from the muted gradient of everything else. You focus on it, and in doing so, everything gradually feels less distant and heavy. Feels almost like waking up, but the throes of slumber sure are stubborn ones.

As the color comes clearer into focus, a color you soon recognize as bright red, so do the formless blobs of shapes. One in particular seems attached to the jarringly red streak across this subdued pallet; it's coming clearer and clearer now.

A figure.

A person.

A face.

Smells like sushi.

.........Undyne.

'Aunt' Undyne...

You blink, and become a little less disconnected from the world. Everything's still blurry, but you've regained enough focus to see that other shapeless blobs have gained some sense of form and distinction. There are others gathered around you, the haze of sleep still obscuring most of their features. Colors are still blurring together, but another starts to stand out within the mix. Beyond the scarlet of Undyne's hair, a different, much less intense hue holds your interest now. What color is that...? Yellow...? No, more like gold. And the way it's clustered together around a small splash of white; it reminds you of something. It reminds you of...

...Of...

The fog finally lifts. Your eyes fully regain clarity. And widen in alarm.

You immediately start hyperventilating (were you holding your breath or something?) as your eyes dart back and forth in attempt to gather your bearings. Where are you? How'd you get here? Why are you on the floor? What are you sitting against? Why can't you-oh god. You can't move. Oh god _why can't you move_???

Why is everyone hovering over you like this? What's with those weird expressions they're all wearing? Like they're afraid for you and _of_ you at the same time? And why is it that Undyne seems to be the only one that wants to be within two feet of y-

Your breath catches in your throat as, finally, the last thing you remember surfaces, and simultaneously provides answers to your current situation.

'Aunt' Alphys' surface lab. The soul-scanning procedure. 'Mom' finally arriving. Sans, Papyrus, and Alphys informing Toriel, Asgore, and Undyne about everything leading up to that point. Talking with Flowey. Mentions of timelines and 'endings'. Asking him of your earliest timeline. You had just closed your eyes for only a few seconds...

You were not supposed to fall asleep. You had been doing all you could do to stay awake, from keeping your mind active with thought-provoking discussions, to making sure you never laid down. You were _not_ supposed to fall asleep. Because, if you fell asleep, you'd invite the dreaded opportunity for...for...

Everything becomes crystal clear. Your gaze drifts down, avoiding everyone's faces, while your own pulls a grimace that you allow them to briefly see before, slowly, hanging your head and shutting your eyes.

"...I didn't hurt anyone, did I?"

That's all you can ask for. That...and for Undyne to do the merciful thing and make it quick and painless-

You feel a hand grab your arm. You feel it yank you forward. Your eyelids fly open as you meet with a sturdy chest. The hand on your arm releases it quickly, and you feel a pair of arms circle around you, hold you tightly yet tenderly.

She's... _hugging_ you.

"You know all those times I called you a wimp and a coward?" she whispers softly, and you feel the slight pressure of her chin on your shoulder. "I take it all back. Anyone who goes through all that, and still comes out the other side as good a person you are...has strength that outmatches armies."

You feel her hug gingerly tighten. You feel the side of her head against yours. You felt the waver in her voice on the last note. You feel a trail of moistness run down between your pressed-together cheeks.

...Is she... _crying_??

"...What happened?" Lost and beyond confused, you desperately look to the persons gathered around you for direction. "What did I-?"

"Nothing, Frisk, _nothing_ ," Toriel quickly assures you. "You did nothing wrong, my child." Her gaze drifts away from yours, and her voice takes on a guilty tone as she somberly adds, " _We_ did."

That quiet confession starts a ripple of shame that spreads across everyone's expressions. All it does for you is make your lost confusion worsen. "Wh...What're you-?"

"Memories, Frisk!" blurts Alphys in a broken half-sob. "W-We saw y-your memories! O-Of all y-your times in the Underground..."

"...And of the life you had before you fell," adds Toriel.

"AND OF WHEN YOU CALLED FOR HELP..." begins Papyrus.

"...but nobody came." finishes Sans.

The unbridled guilt shared in each of their expressions had permeated into each of their confessions. It's so strong none of them can even look you in the eye. You stare at each of them blankly, trying to grasp onto words that feel like they've gone in one ear then straight out the other. Why is this so difficult? Why can't you understand what they're talking about?

One among the sea of faces stands out like the beacon of a lighthouse, draws your attention into it. This face, surrounded by golden petals, does not share in the guilt surrounding it. This face points its eyes directly into yours the moment they meet, the scowl it expresses deepening. A scowl full of contempt, hurt, and betrayal.

As Flowey's gaze pierces through you, it's suddenly a lot easier to grasp those aforementioned words.

Times in the Underground...

Life from before...

Called for help...

But...nobody...

...................

Oh.

Ohh...

Ohhhhh...

Ohhhhhhhhh...

_Ohhhhhhhhhhh..._

No.

Oh no.

Ohh _no_.

No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no nononono _nononononono_ -

"-nonononono! D-Don't blame yourselves for that it was _my_ fault!"

Your mouth forming a smile attempting placidity, you summon enough willpower to lift your arms from your sides, and shake your open palms at the group in a dismissive gesture.

"I-I didn't exactly go around sharing my life story with everyone I met, s-so you couldn't've known if something you did would've...y-you know. Y'know??"

Toriel's head hangs low as her eyes tightly close. Alphys is covering her face, which bears a grimace. Undyne refuses to let you go.

"N-None of you _forced_ me to want to try and leave the Underground; that was my own decision to make!"

Papyrus is shaking so much, his bones are making a soft rattle. Sans' pitch-black sockets are creased to express untold grief.

"A-A-And all that stuff from before; that doesn't matter to me anymore! Th-That all stopped mattering a long time ago; the moment I went to the Underground! That's the _point_ of why I went to the Underground at all!"

Flowey won't even look at you anymore.

"Y-You had lives outside of me; it w-was selfish of me to think... I-It's n-not like I w-went around that first time r-really trying to m-make... S-Some of you w-weren't even... I-I-I-I already knew no one was gonna-!...was...g-gonna..."

Each floundering attempt at reassurance had been more pitiful and desperate than the last. Your attempted smile became more and more grimace-like as things continued. But the one thing that finally makes your facade completely shatter is the way Asgore stares you dead in the eye, forlorn disappointment yet understanding on his face, as his head barely moves side to side in a subtle shake.

_"Please...stop saying 'it's okay' when it clearly is not."_

His gaze, his expression, his gesture; it brings an old conversation back to light. It also brings further to light the irrevocable truth of it all:

They know. They _know_.

And you're not doing anyone any favors by trying to deny anything.

"......You never came......"

You say this as if realizing it for the first time. And, perhaps, you are.

"...You never came..."

Slowly, your arms fall back to your sides.

"You never _came_..."

Your gaze wanders up, making you unable to read anyone's expressions as everything hits you like a truck.

"E-Every time...n-no matter who lived...no m-matter who I befriended...no one e- _ever_...! I t-tried to avoid...I t-t-tried to delay...! I w-wanted...I-I  _needed_...! I waited...but you... _never_... _c a m e_ !"

That's when you start to wail.

You haven't cried like this since the night of the snowstorm. Your whole body convulses with every broken, anguished sob that further roughens your already sorely raw throat. Tears stream freely from your eyes until they run dry, and even then you continue to openly fill this small space with your howls of hurt and misery.

You continue on like this until you're nothing but a whimpering wreck, limp and lifeless as a string-less puppet in Undyne's arms, with your face buried into her shoulder that's long become damp with your tears. You've heard it said that crying can be a source of relief, but with the knowledge of what they now know, you feel no such catharsis.

"...You didn't need to find out," you hoarsely whisper through your sniffles. "Not like this..."

"We know, my child," you hear Toriel mournfully agree, along with the sound of someone dropping to their knees and the sensation of a warm, furry hand holding your own. "And there are no words that will ever do justice to tell you how sorry we all are to have... _intruded_ upon your privacy like this..."

"...I didn't think you'd be able to see...all that..."

"N-N-Neither d-did I," you hear Alphys stammer, her voice almost as much a hoarse, broken croak as yours. "I-I th-thought I knew e-every risk, b-b-but I n-never could've predicted... S-Something went wrong; I d-didn't think we'd see... I-I'm s-s-so _sorry_..."

"...There was nothing you could've done to change what happened...before..."

"coulda done a lot more to _not_ remind you of back then," you hear Sans quietly argue, hints of self-disgust peppered into his low, solemn voice.

"...You shouldn't feel guilty over something you never did..."

"THE ISSUE IS NOT WHAT MIGHT HAVE HAPPENED TO US," Papyrus softly disagrees, and you can hear tears in his voice, "IT IS THAT IT HAPPENED AT ALL, AND THAT IT HAPPENED TO _YOU_ , FRISK. WE HAVE DONE THINGS THAT HAVE INADVERTENTLY CAUSED YOU GRIEF AND SUFFERING, EVER SINCE THE START OF IT ALL. THAT IS A FACT THAT WILL NEVER CHANGE..."

"...I should've just told you... Maybe then, you would've been more prepared to see..."

"There was never any pressure for you to reveal those secrets to us, Frisk," you hear Asgore gently assure you, not a stiver of disappointment or admonishment in his deep, rumbling voice. "If that is what you wanted, you would have told us in your own time, in your own way. And we would have understood completely if you decided that you never wanted to tell us."

You part your lips to argue further, but you're all argued-out. It's glaringly apparent that nothing you say or do is going to make anyone feel better about any of this. All you have left in you is to relent, "...I wish you never had to see that..."

"Yeah? Well, I don't." Undyne's voice is a firm, bitter murmur that's almost growling, yet hides heartbreak as she strengthens her hug. "If anything, it reaffirms  _exactly_ what I'm gonna do if those people _ever_ try to come anywhere near you again."

You have nothing to say to this. Your face sinks down deeper into her muscular shoulder.

"In fact, if not for that weed's sudden usefulness as a translator, he'd be swimming in magma by now."

"...Wait." Finding the strength of will to at least lift your head up, you look over at the back of Undyne's head, then look to the others for guidance. "Translate...what?"

You see many exchange wary glances before Toriel cautiously informs you, "The impostor - the one who has been overshadowing you - has spoken to us."

You feel your eyes widen in surprise.

"FOR SOME REASON," Papyrus picks up, "FLOWEY IS THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN HEAR AND UNDERSTAND WHAT THEY'VE BEEN SAYING."

"they led us here," Sans continues, "to 'downstairs' of alph's old lab."

"They informed us that, if we wished to know who they are and what they want-" Asgore gestures to a cardboard box sitting on the ground a little ways away. "-the answers lie in there."

Your eyes widen even further, your attention completely arrested by the simple box. All the answers...are in _there_?

"Dr. Alphys," you hear 'Mom' questionably address your 'aunt'. "What can you tell us about these tapes?"

You blink dumbly. Tapes..?

Alphys looks at the box as if it's been gossiping some nasty stuff about her behind her back. "Uh, n-not much, I'm af-fraid. I f-found the box down here back when I f-first became the Royal Scientist, along w-with a bunch of old blueprints, I think..."

She pauses, briefly looking as though she just remembered something obvious, before continuing, "A-Anyway, um, wh-when I tried to watch these tapes, I j-just assumed they were too old or damaged to work, b-because even after trying to use the s-same restorative programs I used to f-fix other tapes - tapes mainly water-damaged f-from the dump, aheh - all these tapes showed was......static."

Everyone's expressions light up; they all look like they've had an epiphany. Undyne loosens her hug and leans back, so she can look at Alphys with a start. "You don't think..?"

Behind her wide eyes, you can practically see Alphys' mind racing. "I-If the impostor led us to these..." she mutters under her breath, looking once again to the box. "Then m-maybe... I-It's worth a shot..."

Your addled mind finally catching up, you realize what this means. "Then let's-"

In the process of trying to get up and out of Undyne's hold, you had put your hand on her arm to use it as a prop. Not one ounce of applied pressure, and your arm buckles under your own weight, and you would have collapsed to the floor if not for the reinstatement of your 'aunt's hold. You heard the shuffle of several feet the moment you failed in getting up. That's right; you still can't move. At least you can now recognize that it's because of malaise and a lack of stamina instead of a certain someone's green magic.

"Oh, _hell_ no." Undyne firmly takes you by the shoulders and leans you back, makes you meet her faintly water-logged gaze as she insists, "The only thing you're gonna be doing for the next several hours is getting some rest! If not going straight to a hospital!"

You hold her gaze, your mind taking a moment to process what she told you. You feel your face morph into an accusatory scowl in the process.

The pressure of a hand gingerly squeezing your own stops your scowl from escalating further. "Please do not misunderstand Undyne, my child," Toriel softly urges. "She, along with the rest of us, understand your desire to not involve anyone else in these affairs; we are just very worried about you, and do not wish to see you push yourself too hard."

"your soul almost got ripped to shreds up there, kiddo," Sans confesses, the curve of his grin placatory yet the look in his eyes concerned. "gave us all a big scare, you did."

You feel your face go gaunt. Your soul...? Almost ripped to shreds...? No sooner than you process it do you feel an acute soreness in your chest, and the smell of burnt flesh reaches your nostrils.

"DO NOT THINK WE ARE TRYING TO DENY YOU YOUR PREROGATIVE, EITHER," Papyrus assures, looking a little more like his usual boisterous self, yet there is still unease in his smile. "NYEH HEH, IF ANYTHING, YOU HAVE MORE OF A RIGHT THAN ALL OF US PUT TOGETHER TO SEE WHAT ANSWERS LIE IN THESE TAPES."

"All of us deserve to know...and remember the truth," Asgore confirms, though the way he said this makes it sound like he's repeating it.

Something between a groan and a sigh coming from directly in front of you makes you look back to Undyne, to see that she's hanging her head. "Just..." 'Calm' and 'pleading' are two words you'd rarely, if ever, associate with your 'aunt', but both are in her expression as she turns her face back toward you. "Do me a favor, and don't be like me. Just take it easy for a while, okay? ...Please?"

Another word you'd never associate with her, let alone hear her say in such humility. Your face smooths over in blank shock to hear it. Your gaze sweeps the sea of faces again, finding expressions of reserved anxiousness this time around. You even see that Flowey's at least turned his head to partially look back at you in expectancy.

So, this is your situation. So riddled with sickness you're unable to move. So jet-lagged from the, apparently apparent, trauma your soul went through your mental-processing time is at an all-time low. You're so physically incapable that it takes all you've got to keep your head up. You're at the mercy of the people around you, and all they want from you is to slow down, rest, not over-exert yourself.

...So.

Really.

What more can you do?

You feel like you've turned to putty as you loosen the tension in your muscles, turn your gaze down, and give a single, obedient nod. "...Okay."

\----

The ragtag group regathered in the room of many beds. One had been pulled up to the screen fixed to the northern wall; Toriel sat upon it with Frisk in her lap, and she was making her body radiate heat in attempt to warm up the deathly coldness her child just couldn't seem to be without anymore. Papyrus and Sans flanked her. Undyne sat on the floor against the bed on Papyrus' side. Asgore hovered behind the piece of furniture on Sans' side, Flowey remaining steadfast in his pot and in the former king's palm. As soon as Alphys finished hooking the VCR player from the room they gathered in previously up to the wall-fixed screen, she brought it along with her as she sat herself between Undyne's legs.

With everything hooked up and powered on, the moment of truth had arrived. After a brief sharing of glances between one another, Alphys dug out of the box a video tape which had a label ' _#1_ ' on its side. She inserted it into the player, and waited.

When static was the immediate sight upon the screen, several spirits sank. They rose quickly when the static proved to only be a very brief prelude to what secrets the tape contained. And even though the screen became dark after it, the unfamiliar voice speaking from within the displayed darkness instantly captivated the audience into total silence.

_"Battery at full capacity. Blank tape inserted. Very well. Time to begin. Entry number- Wait, hold on..."_

A small 'click', like a plastic cap being removed. The darkness upon the screen was swiftly replaced and light poured in, causing everyone to blink rapidly from the sudden change. After adjusting, the gathered looked to see someone back away from the camera this tape was obviously filmed with, lens cap in bone white, long-fingered hand.

_"Ah, there we are. This should prove to be a much more efficient way to record everything."_

The figure backed further away, sat down at a chair that faced the camera, giving the gathered to fully take in the person who had recorded this tape, at least.

It was a monster, and by the look of it, a skeleton. Though it was hard to tell because they were now sitting, they looked tall and lanky in stature. They wore a white turtleneck sweater and pressed black pants, over which was worn a long black coat. They had one leg crossed over the other and their interlaced, bony fingers resting in their lap; a very casual posture despite the formality of their attire. Their mouth was curved into a welcoming grin. They had orbs of white inside their eye sockets.

Eye sockets which had cracks connecting to them. One of which was jagged, ran up their forehead, and forced the right eye to remain half closed, while the other proved to be perfectly straight, and connected with their pleasant grin.

_"Where was I...? Ah, yes. *_ Ahem _* Entry number 1 of the video journal of the first Royal Scientist to King Asgore Dreemur,_

_"Doctor W.D. Gaster."_


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listening recommendation: http://listenonrepeat.com/watch/?v=ktuDYYtbs2s#Homestuck_Vol_8_-_03_Flare
> 
> content warning: mad science yo

_"In truth, I am highly doubtful this will become a profitable use of my time,“ admitted the doctor. "Being of a personal log, the only audience intended for this journal will be my future self. And I see little point in keeping a personal set of recordings of my thoughts.” The doctor shrugged. “But I’m willing to humor my good benefactor, if only for while. Perhaps even moreso since he did not officially order me to  take up this little…‘hobby’. Heh, it really is difficult to say no to ol’ King Fluffybuns. Queen Toriel certainly has her hands full with him, doesn’t she?”_

_The doctor idly fiddled with the lens cap, looking thoughtful. “…Perhaps, I should be looking at this more than something His Majesty suggested I do to make use of my so-claimed monomaniacal tendencies when I 'ramble’.” Air-quotes were inserted there, along with an eye-roll. “Perhaps I could make more use of this little hobby, by making these recordings a documentation of my legacy, should anything…happen.”_

_The doctor stared beyond the camera, looking pensive. “Not that I am all that worried of losing my position as the Royal Scientist any time soon; Asgore himself said he’s yet to meet any monster who’s even leagues close to matching my genius, and Toriel agreed by saying, and I quote, 'Certainly, his successor would have some big shoes to fill’. But, still…there is always the possibility that I will be replaced one day. I’m not getting any younger. No monster is completely immortal; not even boss monsters like the king and queen. And falling down is an ever-looming possibility; a far greater one since our imprisonment beneath this godforsaken mountain…”_

_The doctor began to frown, the inexplicably malleable bone around his teeth behaving like lips to form the downwards curve. After a moment of contemplation, though, his expression became jolly as he laughed and waved dismissively. “Heh heh, oh, what am I doing? We don’t need to be bringing ourselves down with such gloomy thoughts, do we, future me? Heh heh heh.”_

_He brought his hands back together in his lap, looking back at the camera with his pleasant smile once again on his face. “Per Asgore’s suggestion, I suppose I’ll properly begin this journal by describing what my day’s been like. It was pleasant enough, I suppose. Work on the Core is coming along nicely and on schedule; with any luck the entire Underground will be with power by the end of the month. That is, provided the workers continue to read my blueprints properly.”_

_The doctor looked down at his hands, appearing almost angry at them. “Heh, smartest monster in the Underground, and legibility still eludes me. At this point I’m not the only one who thinks it more efficient for me to just point to an unfinished device and describe how to finish constructing it with hand gestures. 'The man who speaks in hands’ is a popular nickname for me circulating through the rumor mill these days.”_

_He sighed and looked back at the camera, a hopeful look about him. “Speaking of the rumor mill, I heard tell that the King and Queen are planning on having a child in the near future. Good for them, I say. And good for the future of our people, too. Heaven knows the people need all the hope we can get these days-”_

_The doctor stopped talking with a start, the white pupils in his sockets brightening. After a second of stillness, he stood up so quickly he knocked over the chair in which he sat._

_"Ozonated water!“ he proclaimed to the no one. "It’s perfect for purifying drinking water! That’s how we can address the excess of ozone byproduct!”_

_Fueled by his epiphany, the doctor stormed out of the camera’s line of sight. “I must get this approved by Their Majesties at once!” he announced as a door opened with a swift creak, then shut with an even louder, more enthused bang._

_The camera kept recording the empty room for a long time before the sound of a door swiftly opening preceded the doctor’s return._

_"…tter get all this down on paper before this train of thought outraces me,“ the doctor muttered under his breath as he passed by in front of the camera, his words stumbling out quickly as he dug around through a desk drawer. "Let’s see, there will definitely need to be a steady stream of water provided. And the water provided should need to be able to withstand the Core’s - and by extension, Hotland’s - persistent heat, lest it evaporate instantly and render the whole thing ineffectual. Perhaps the unique snow and ice of Snowdin can be employed for this purpose…”_

_His under-the-breath words became harder to understand as he wrote and sketched erratically and swiftly onto an unfurled piece of blueprint paper. This went on for quite a while before he stopped, and held the prints up in front of his face._

_"…Good enough.“ He did not sound very satisfied, but proceeded to roll the paper up and tucked it beneath an arm before leaving once again, his gait no less enthused as it was during his first departure. Same went for how he slammed the door shut._

_The camera continued recording the empty room until the battery ran out. Or the tape. Whichever came first._

\----

The gathered continuously stared at the wall-mounted screen, even as it became dark. The loudest sound in the spacious room became that of the VCR whirring as it - upon reaching the end of the tape - automatically began to rewind it. Once that stopped, the room became as silent as a mausoleum.

”…well…he seems…eccentric.“

With that light comment, the so-felt eternity of silence ended.

"Dr. W.D. Gaster,” murmured Asgore, a dazed look on his face. “My first…Royal Scientist.”

Alphys’ expression was blank as her mind raced. “Dr. Gaster…” she muttered under her breath. “ _He_  b-built…the C-Core…”

"'THE MAN WHO SPEAKS IN HANDS’,“ quoted Papyrus, unease about his expression. "I HAVE HEARD THAT PHRASE BEFORE…SOMEWHERE…”

After what felt to be another eternity of silence, accompanied by a few awkward glances, Alphys ejected the first tape, then inserted the tape labeled ’#2’.

\----

_Dr. Gaster stared at the little red light on the camera’s top, his expression even._

_"…Entry number 2,“ he began slowly. "In review of the previous entry, suffice to say…I can understand now how people can perceive me as one of an easily distracted, single-track mind. Especially when I…'ramble’.”_

_His eyes wandered as he tugged awkwardly at the collar of his turtleneck. There appeared to be the slightest hint of pink coloring his cheekbones. He looked embarrassed._

_"To pick up where entry number one so unceremoniously ended,“ he continued after a moment, "Their Majesties approved of the addition of a water-purification system being added to the Core. In fact, the entirety of the Core complex was completed, and has been for several years. I have not made another entry for this little 'side project’ because, admittedly, in my zeal, it has slipped my mind. And when I found the camera whilst attempting to tidy up…”_

_His eyes wandered as he raised a fist to his mouth and coughed into it. “At any rate, though the Core has reached completion, it is my firm belief that there is always room for improvement.” He stared straight back into the camera, his mouth curved into a wide, keen grin. “Providing power and clean water to the entire Underground is its primary purpose, of course, but the Core has potential to be so much more than that! And I should know; I created the thing! And I can create it to be an even greater asset to monsterkind than it already is! Hell, with enough time and resources, I’m sure I can find a way to reshape it into something that will bring down that damned barrier once and for-”_

_The doctor froze, halfway out of his seat and his expression fixed into one showing eagerness borderlining mania. Something flitted across his face before his expression mellowed, and he sank back down into his seat. The whites of his pupils stared downward, his smile turning upside-down._

_"…I should really stop doing this,“ he sighed, a hand reaching up to massage his forehead. "I’m getting ahead of myself again, letting my thoughts run wild. Their Majesties already disapproved of any changes to the Core outside upgrades to systems already in place; they are complacent with knowing their people will be provided with a reliable source of power and clean water. As for the barrier…”_

_He blew out huffily through his nasal cavity and leaned his head back, stared up at the ceiling as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Their Majesties believe it to be far too soon after the war to be concerning ourselves with trying to free ourselves from this place. As do most remaining monsters that have seen the war with their own eyes, fought valiantly as soldiers in our army. If we were to immediately storm back to the surface, the humans would surely repeat their actions, and try to wipe us all out again._

_"I believe…I concede with Their Majesties wishes on the subject,” admitted the doctor after a minute. “A prison though this mountain may be, it remains the safest place in the world for our kind to live and survive. At least until the dust settles, and bad blood runs dry. His Majesty said the only thing I should be concerning myself with these days is not running myself ragged with concocting plans he most likely will not approve of any time soon. I understand his and the Queen’s misgivings, of course; it is not uncommon to lock myself away within this lab without food nor sleep for days at a time when inspiration strikes me. But…”_

_Slowly, he uncrossed his arms and straightened his posture, his skull facing back toward the camera but a far-off look still in his eyes as he released a wistful sigh. “…As this journal is meant to be a record of my honest thoughts, I’ll admit that I fear I’ve caught a bad case of anxious listlessness most commonly known as ‘cabin fever’. The creation of the Core has allowed me to test the limits of my imagination, to reach and create far more than I’ve ever done. And, not to sound too much of a glory hound, daunting as it was…I miss the feeling of being the pillar of everyone’s hopes and dreams…”_

_The reminiscent look about Dr. Gaster lasted for a few long moments before he shook his head and waved his hand dismissively. “Oh, who am I kidding? I’m not one meant for such a spotlight. I am just a scientist; the title of 'hope for a better future’ is one better suited for someone more deserving. Someone such as the young Prince As-”_

_The trill buzzing of an intercom interrupted the doctor. He stood immediately and left the camera’s line of sight to answer the call. “What is it?”_

_"We’ve got a major blowout in Sub-Level 4, Sector C,“ informed a voice muffled by interference. "We could use your help with damage control down here, Doc.”_

_"…I’ll be there shortly.“_

_"Thanks, Doc.”_

_The call ended. A sigh was heard before the rustle of fabric was. “Always room for improvement,” the doctor repeated softly before the sound of footsteps preceded the opening of a door._

_The close of a door did not follow. More footsteps did as the doctor returned to the camera’s line of sight, his long black cloak replaced with a practical white lab coat. He picked the camera up form where it was perched, and held it in front of his face._

_"Lest I repeat the oversight of last time, I’ll make a go at ending this entry properly,“ he told the recording device. "I am still unsure this will become a regular habit of mine, but I’ll keep an open mind for now. Let’s just see how this goes, and what the future has in store.”_

_The camera stopped recording when Dr. Gaster properly turned it off._

\----

As the process of automatic rewinding began, several heads turned toward the two former royals, varying degrees of intrigue and suspicion in their expressions. Toriel and Asgore looked to each other, humility creeping into theirs.

"…It is true,“ admitted Toriel after a moment. "We did think, in the beginning at least, that it would be best not to immediately want the barrier to come down. The reason being that we feared it would only result in more senseless dust-scattering and bloodshed.”

"Obviously, this was not a decision we announced to the public,“ Asgore meekly added. "The only ones who knew about this were myself, Toriel, a handful of remaining war veterans.”

No more comments were raised. Alphys ejected tape #2, then inserted #3.

\----

_Dr. Gaster sat hunched forward in his chair, looking testy._

_"Entry number 3,“ he began curtly, one leg bouncing excessively in his anxiousness. "Something very…interesting happened today. I was with the King and Queen going over daily reports in the throne room when the young Prince entered with someone draped across his shoulders. And what should that someone be…but a human child.”_

_He started wringing his hands, the look in his eyes subtly hardening. “I did not welcome the sight with even an ounce of hospitality, much to the chagrin of the royals. But was I really all that irrational? When the last time one’s seen a human was during times of war, when humans were constantly trying to assure one’s demise… I just find it near impossible to believe how calmly the King and Queen reacted to seeing their son with one of them, be they a child or not!”_

_He had risen to his feet by this point, pacing back and forth in front of the camera as his irate tirade continued. “Not only that, but they are actually_ considering _the Prince’s pleas to allow the human to stay with them in New Home! Where is all that talk about keeping ourselves free of human influence now, Asgore?! I am not one gifted with prescience, but to allow one of them to remain with you, and I can feel that this bodes ill tidings for our future!!”_

_The recording was ended as a careless wave of an arm knocked the camera to the floor, hitting it at such an angle that the tape was crudely ejected._

\----

"…welp,“ remarked Sans. "looks like he wasn’t a fan.”

"There were few who weren’t,“ recalled Asgore. "Initially, at least…”

After an amount of time passed without further comment, tape #3 was ejected, and replaced promptly by #4.

\----

_Dr. Gaster stared past the camera, looking admonished._

_"…Entry number 4. In review of the previous entry, suffice to say…“ He looked down and rubbed his hands awkwardly. "I might have been a little…hasty in my judgement of the human. Perhaps unjustifiably so. The young cannot be held accountable for the crimes of their predecessors, and the child has not done anything detrimental to the welfare of monsterkind thus far. It’s just…”_

_The doctor stared off to the side, the look in his eyes suggesting he was seeing something other than the room in which he sat. Unwarily, a hand reached up to ghost along the crack running along the bottom of his left eye socket to his mouth._

_"…It is easy to understand how the young Prince can be so comfortable around that child. Being born into an era in which children do not have to witness the horrors of war, and the Prince remains oblivious to the merciless strength humankind possesses over us. The horrors they’re capable of, the atrocities they’ve committed, the immoral lengths they’ll go to…“_

_He spoke in a subdued, emotionless monotone, his expression haunted. The lights in his sockets dimmed until almost completely blacking out._

_He was quiet for a while. Then he closed his eyes, sighed deeply, and brought his hand away from his face. He rested it beside the other in his lap and straightened himself, looking back to the camera with brightly lit sockets._

_"It bears repeating that it is not right to hold the young responsible for the actions of the old. Each person is responsible for their own actions, no matter the circumstance. Wary of them though I may be, I should be willing to give this young human child the benefit of the doubt. In fact…”_

_The doctor’s mouth curled up into a smile, one that could be described as unfathomable. “Their presence here presents me with a unique opportunity. I will be meeting with them in a few days time to explore on that opportunity, so I shall conclude this entry on a note of suspense. These tapes are short enough as they are already, after all.”_

_The doctor raised his hand, a blue spark of magic on the tip of his extended finger as it made the pantomime of pressing a button. The camera promptly stopped recording._

\----

No one had much of anything to say, so the next tape was inserted as soon as the previous finished rewinding.

\----

_Dr. Gaster sat in his chair, the telltale signs of blue magic still visible around his raised hand as he lowered it into his lap._

_"Entry number 5,“ he began, sounding somewhat annoyed. "I have met with Chara, as was alluded to in the previous entry. Truth be told, however, I had wanted this entry to encompass my…interview, I suppose one could call it, with the child. But they were not very fond of the idea of being recorded, even though Prince Asriel was the exact opposite. Oh yes, I suppose it’s worth mentioning that the young Prince was present for the interview as well, even though I expressly informed the human that this was to be a one-on-one meeting.”_

_He released an exasperated sigh and pinched the area between his now closed eye sockets. “…I have no reason for complaint,” he admitted after a moment spent calming himself down. “One of the agreements made with the King and Queen that allowed them to let me meet with the child was that I was to not do anything that would make them uncomfortable, in any translation of the word. At least I was able to record everything through a different medium.”_

_He leaned forward and reached past where the camera’s line of sight extended. Upon the return trip, there was a notebook in his hand that he opened up and flicked through as he straightened his posture. “As for Prince Asriel’s presence…heh, from what I’ve seen, those two children have been near inseparable since the day they met. And, truth be told, it was difficult to tell if the Prince attended the interview strictly for Chara’s benefit, or for also his own.”_

_The pages stopped turning. Dr. Gaster stared silently at what they contained for a good few moments before promptly snapping the notebook shut._

_"'Man who speaks in hands’ indeed,“ he muttered sourly under his breath before extending his arm, then unceremoniously dropping the notebook to the floor beside his chair. He let out something between a groan and a sigh and ran a hand down his face. "The price of genius surely is a uniquely paid one…”_

_He stared out somewhere past the camera for a moment before making a dismissive hand gesture. “Oh, no matter. I more or less remember everything that was discussed. I’ll just have to work off of memory to recount what we talked about. Hence the purpose of this entry.”_

_The doctor brought his hands together in his lap, interlacing his fingers. He stared into the camera’s lens and cleared his nonexistent throat before beginning his account of past events:_

_"There were many things I wished to know about the surface world from the child that came from there. Were humanity’s grudges of the war still harbored? Do they remember why they sealed us monsters within the mountain? Do they even remember the existence of monsters or magic at all? Certainly, it sounds a lot to ask of a child as young as they are, but who else can I turn to? It has been centuries since monsterkind’s underground imprisonment, and only now, at the end of the year 201X, has a human ever joined our numbers. Who wouldn’t be curious to know what’s going on up there?“_

_He gestured vaguely at the ceiling with a jerk of his skull. "And being a scientist - the Royal one or not - my curiosity is tenfold. My time spent with the human has sated it, yes, but admittedly, it has been sated in a rather…unexpected way.”_

_There was a sound of bone on bone as the doctor absentmindedly tapped one thumb atop the other, his expression taking on a thoughtful countenance. “Apparently, enough time has passed that, not only have the humans forgotten so much about the war that it’s been written off as nothing more than myth, but the reason there was a war to begin with, the power of souls…”_

_His would be brows furrowed, something along the lines of resentment flashing across his features. “…Apparently…humans no longer recognize the existence of their own souls as literal culminations of their beings, but more along the lines of an abstract concept. A belief. One that varies from person to person instead of being a universally accepted constant. Monsters were waged war upon, slaughtered, and imprisoned because of the humans’ fear of what we would do with their souls, and they have the_ audacity _to_ forget _??”_

_His hands were tightly clenched. His posture had become rigid. His face was warped into a scowl. The lights of his eyes were completely gone._

_"……But, perhaps…that is all well and good.“_

_Though a certain stiffness remained about him, the doctor’s body relaxed. His anger had given way to a complacent neutrality, the lights in his eyes staring thoughtfully past where the camera sat._

_"It was because the humans knew of the power of their own souls, and what would happen if a monster ever got their hands on one, that they waged war on us, hoping to rid themselves of that possibility. Fear is a very powerful incentive, after all. Coupled with mob-mentality, and it becomes like a plague. One cured only by completely ridding the world of the source for that fear through banishment…or complete destruction.”_

_The doctor’s expression smoothed over, becoming reminiscent, if not achingly so. “…Asgore was right to surrender when he did. Any longer and there probably would not be any of us left. As was he and Queen Toriel wise to not want the barrier destroyed as soon as possible. At least, in forgetting both monsters and their own souls, the humans have, in a sense, freed us. Now all that remains is the acquirement of our freedom in the other, less abstract sense.”_

_A few moments passed before Dr. Gaster looked back at the camera proper, the beginnings of a reserved smile on his face. “And, lately, that possibility looks more and more promising. The main rumor making the rounds these days is that young Chara is the angel from our ancient prophecy. Now, I am one for believing more in solid fact than in prescient visions foretold in bygone eras, but, still, I have not seen the Underground this collectively full of hope in a very…very long time.”_

_Something flitted across his face. Was it sadness? Was it fear? Was it envy? It came and went too quickly to be properly discerned._

_"Not since the Prince was born, at least. And to see how close those two are, almost as close as siblings…“ A breathy chuckle came from the doctor. "The future just keeps looking brighter and brighter.”_

_The recording ended because the camera’s battery had run dry._

\----

Deeply thoughtful expressions took up practically everyone’s faces. It took a little longer than usual for the next tape to be inserted and viewed.

\----

_Dr. Gaster sat slumped in his chair, looking haggard and like it had been days since he had a good night’s sleep._

_"…Entry number…6.“ He spoke slowly in an emotionless monotone, sounding as though he was having difficulty making each word leave his mouth. "Something…very tragic has happened. It started…when the human became gravely ill. They…they died the next day. Then Asriel…he must have absorbed their soul…and crossed the barrier. But…when he came back…the humans…he…”_

_A grimace overtook the doctor’s face, which he then dropped into his hands. “In just…one night…the children…our future…our hope…_ gone _…”_

_There wasn’t a sound in the room, save for each small, shuddering breath the doctor took before he pulled himself together enough to at least remove his hands from his face. His elbows on his knees, he dropped his arms so that they hung limply between his legs._

_"…Part of me cannot help but feel…partly responsible for this,“ the doctor admitted sadly, his expression unreadable to the camera because of the angle at which his head hung. "Maybe…if I had not told those children of what a monster can do when they absorb a human’s soul…but surely, that is common knowledge at this point, isn’t it? Something everyone knows at this point. And yet, for the prince to know what he would have been capable of…to allow the humans to mortally wound him…”_

_He released a drawn-out, shuddering breath and covered his eyes with one hand. “I just don’t know what to think…”_

_Not even the sound of his breathing was heard as the silence returned._

_"……The same cannot be said about the king.“_

_It felt as though a lifetime had passed before Dr. Gaster’s voice, hardened and weary, reluctantly broke the silence. The dry rasp of bone on bone followed his voice as he ran his hand down his face, which re-joined the other in hanging limply between his legs. He did not lift his head to look back to the camera as he continued speaking._

_"He has not only decided that we’ve spent enough time trapped underground…but that the humans must pay for everything they have taken from us. He’s declared war. He’s decided that any, and every human that falls down here must, and will die. That he himself will absorb their souls and become a god. That he will destroy the barrier…and wipe out humanity once and for all.”_

_He angled his head off to the side, staring out into the middle distance. “It has been two days since this declaration was made. No one has seen the queen ever since.”_

_He lifted his head, finally, dim white pupils staring out beyond the camera. “I’ve thought about asking His Majesty if he knows of her whereabouts, but I doubt there will ever be a perfect time or way to do so. He has just lost his children. His kingdom has become devoid of hope. To have his wife go missing within the same 48 hours, after declaring war…”_

_The doctor sighed heavily and leaned back, the back of his skull resting on the top of the chair’s back as he stared up at the ceiling. “I never thought I’d see the day when Asgore would genuinely show the desire to resort to violence. Even during the war, there was always reluctance about him when he led the charge. Even then, he always strove for a peaceful solution. He never wanted anyone to die…but circumstances decided he should act differently. It was war; he had to do what he must to assure the survival of his people. Even if it meant attacking others with the intention to kill…”_

_A quiet moment past in which the doctor continued staring up at the ceiling, un-moving, before questioning the empty air, “What do I think of His Majesty’s plans? Hard to say. I see similarities in him now to what he was like during the first war: a king doing everything he could to give his people hope, even if it meant eschewing his own moral code. But never before have I seen him so beside himself with rage, grief-fueled or not. I cannot help but wonder how long it will last, and if he can really bring himself to fulfill his promises.”_

_The chair he sat in creaked as he adjusted himself to sit up more properly, his elbows now resting on the chair’s arms as he continued to avoid looking directly at the camera. “I could never tell this to his face, but…I believe I cannot say I fully concede with this plan. What guarantee do we have that another seven humans will ever come here? That even_ one _more human will come here at all? I do not believe this plan was very well thought through; it has given the people a new sense of hope, yes, but how long will it be before that, too, is snuffed out?”_

_It was quiet in the room as the doctor’s cogs of thought churned. A small, bittersweet smile soon curved his mouth, as did an equally small, bittersweet chuckle leave it. “While I cannot say I approve of His Majesty’s plan…I can empathize with the reasoning behind it. While I myself have never known the sorrow of losing two children in the same 24 hours, I do know what it’s like to lose someone very….very dear to me…”_

_His grin faded. His expression became haunted. His hand, subtly shaking, reached up to his face, fingertips touching the crack on his skull that forced his right eye socket to remain halfway shut. He winced at the faint touch, a grimace tugging at the corners of his mouth._

_"…It was just another escort mission… A routine one at that. Get the healers to the wounded, then back to safety. The only difference is that the Queen had joined us. That must have been what prompted the ambush. To have the chance to not only take out our healers, but also the_ Queen _…surely it was too good an opportunity to pass up. And…in just one blow they…_ they _…“_

_The doctor’s voice trembled with despair and heartbreak. The lights in his eyes became dimmer and dimmer with every word until they were gone altogether. His hands clenched, one around the arm of his chair, the other at the crack in his skull. A flash of anger crossed his grimacing face._

_”…And even though…they refused their own demise…transforming into that awe-striking form… It was enough to ward off the humans, but not…to…“_

_His anger was short-lived. It left him looking forlorn and exhausted in its wake, his hands unclenched and limp._

_”…At least, I was able to collect that…coagulated mass their body melted into. I know I should be grateful, given that others were not as lucky as to be able to do that much; to have the luxury of putting their loved ones to rest…“_

_Empty sockets made it hard to tell where or at what Dr. Gaster was staring. When his pupils returned, they pointed straight at the camera as the doctor pushed back his misery by screwing his face into one that expressed hardened resolve._

_"Inexplicable death-defiance aside, to revel and mourn on events that happened centuries ago would bring shame to their life and memory. Especially in light of their last words to me. I should not despair. I should not lose hope. I should do what I can with gifts I’ve been given to ensure the thriving of our people. Whatever it takes.”_

_His face lit up with epiphany. His chair scraping along the floor, he scooted it forward and focused his attentions entirely upon the camera’s lens._

_"I know now the direction in which I want this journal to take,“ he said in a voice that shook with resolve. "I will use it to document my findings on the research I will conduct. Officially, all King Asgore has asked me to do is to prepare for when the next human falls, and it comes the time for their soul to be collected. Off the record, I will be doing so much more than that. Because if I know Asgore half as well as I believe I do, this is a promise he will end up regretting for the rest of his life. But not one entirely irrevocable, if I have any say about it. There has to be another way to bring down the barrier. One that should not have to rely on more bloodshed and despair. And who better suited to find this alternate solution than the smartest monster in the Underground?”_

_Briefly, Dr. Gaster looked worried, daunted by his self-assigned task. But the moment soon passed, and he was back to expressing unshakable resolve. “There must be another way, and if anyone can find it, I can and will. However long it takes, I will not give up. For the sake of monsters, hope, and the future, I must stay determined.”_

_The tape ran out of free space, causing the recording to end._

\----

The following silence was thick and long. Especially around the two individuals mentioned in the most recently viewed tapes. One could cut through the tension between them with a knife.

"…A skeleton.“

Given what was being discussed on the most recent tape, Toriel’s voice was not as taut as one would expect it to be. It was soft, small, slow. It sounded like she had just remembered something.

"The monster I spoke of. The soldier that defied death.” She blinked heavily, clearly in a daze. “I recall now. They were…a skeleton.”

Toriel said nothing more. After a lull, the next tape was inserted.

\----

_Dr. Gaster stood in front of a whiteboard, carted around from a different location in the room so that it was more fully within the camera’s field of vision._

_"Entry number 7,“ he began promptly, speaking as though giving a lecture to a hall full of students instead of talking to himself in an otherwise empty room. "In order to further understand the barrier, I believe it would be wise to start with what we already know about it.”_

_He uncapped a black dry-erase marker and started to trace out seven 'hearts’. “We know it took the work of seven of the human’s greatest magicians to conjure it into existence. And so it will take nothing less than the power of seven human souls to dispel it. That, of course, is all we can assume. And why do we assume it so? Because nothing short of the souls of every living monster would be needed to rival the strength of just one human soul they are_ that _powerful.”_

_He finished the last soul, the marker’s tip hovering over its bottom point. “What remains not-common knowledge is why this is. Why human souls have so much strength and potential, when the fact remains that, more often than not, that strength and potential remains criminally unused within a human’s lifespan._

_"Most of what I will share in this entry is entirely theoretical and, so far, unproven. Before I begin, however, it would be quite essential to provide a bit more…'background information’.”_

_Dr. Gaster side-stepped to write on a different part of the whiteboard, this time sketching out another heart, yet this one was upside-down. “To us monsters, our souls are our everything. Our magic comes from them. The physical appearances of our bodies are determined by them. We_ are _our souls.”_

_As he spoke, he drew wavy lines around the monster soul, in a way that made it look like the soul was radiating some kind of energy. The marker squeaked as he did._

_"Such is not the case for humans.“ Beside the monster soul, he drew out another human one, but around it drew a generic humanoid figure. "Their bodies are far more physical than those of monsters. They’re built more…sturdy, for lack of a better term. Their souls have a mass of flesh and blood around them, while monsters wear their hearts on their sleeves. Literally.”_

_He made a sound that was almost a snicker. “That explains why their physical attacks can be so deadly to us. And, as I’ve theorized…it may also explain why attacks of a magical nature do such damage to them.”_

_He side-stepped again, back to his first drawing of seven hearts. “It has been proven that humans can be capable of using magic, as has been proven before with the creation of the barrier. Their magic must come from their souls, as well. But if the war has proven one thing, it is that magic and humans, their bodies especially…do not mix well. And with the amount of magic that wen into creating the barrier, the magic concentrated within the souls of seven humans already well-practiced in using their own magic…”_

_Dr. Gaster stared silently at the seven black 'hearts’. With his back to the camera, it was impossible to read his expression._

_"…I cannot imagine any of them lived for very long following this event.“_

_A brief lull followed this low, toneless statement. The squeak of the whiteboard’s hinges ended it when the doctor flipped it around to the other side._

_"All this remains purely theoretical, as I cannot stress enough. Whilst we remain beneath this mountain, there is no way of knowing how much the world outside has changed without us. But, theoretical, my speculations must remain. So I do what I can for now, speculating just what it is that makes a human soul tick.”_

_He proceeded to jot down a number of scenarios. “From what can be inferred by the nature of a monster’s soul, and what I’ve theorized about a human’s, it could explain a number of phenomenon that occur when monster magic interacts with human. When a monster and human fight, the human’s soul is called forth; it becomes exposed to the attacks the monster unleashes. Magic is naturally drawn to magic, and if a monster is inclined to fight - no matter the strength of their desire to - their magic must unintentionally pull forth that one vital point in a human that our magic has the most affect on.”_

_The first scenario drawn out as he described it, Dr. Gaster continued onto the next. “I’ve said before that monster magic and human souls are quite incompatible, but not entirely. Magic is an expression of self for monsters, and while the common type of expressive magic is detrimental to humans, I have seen with my own eyes that certain types of magic do not cause that effect. Healing magic, for example, causes the same restorative effect in both monsters and humans. Blue magic does not cause a human any harm, either, provided the human remains perfectly still, that is. And then there’s the uncommon kind of magic that affects the soul in a more…direct way. I’ll now demonstrate.”_

_Dr. Gaster looked around for a moment, spotted something, then raised his arm toward it. A spark of blue flame ignited along his fingers. Almost immediately, a work bench about a yard away from him rose into the air._

_"This type of magic can easily manipulate the gravity of an object,“ he explained. "It is far easier to apply this magic to other forms of magic - to a soul, for example - but with enough practice and application, I am able to apply it to objects far less magical. Or organic.”_

_He lowered his arm. The work bench lowered with it. None of the objets on its surface barely jostled once it was returned to the floor._

_"So far, I have only seen this type of manipulation in monsters of my particular heritage,“ professed the doctor as he turned back to the whiteboard. "This, however, is not the only variant of soul manipulative magic that exists. There’s one that completely locks the object of manipulation in place, another that only allows the object to move a certain way - provided the object has the sentience to move on its own in the first place, of course. These classes of magic, unless applied with that of the more common variety, also do not harm humans.”_

_He moved onto the next scenario. “And then there’s what happens when death is involved. For a monster, since our bodies are outward projections of our souls, both expire upon death. But for humans…”_

_The doctor was quiet for a moment. “…Because of their more organic properties, upon death, human bodies do not expire as swiftly as monsters. They just…stay there. It takes years, decades even, for their flesh to return to the dust of the earth. And as for their souls…”_

_The marker’s movement across the whiteboard slowed until stopping completely. Its tip stayed pressed against it for an awkward amount of time before it was pulled away, and Dr. Gaster stepped back._

_"Why…?“ The word came out small and haunted. "Why do their souls persist? What gives them the strength to exist outside their vessel of flesh? How can the body be so wholly broken, yet the soul so infallibly willing?”_

_Another lengthy silence passed. It was ended by a small, dark chuckle._

_"How grateful I am that these tapes are for my viewing only. There’s no way I’ll ever confess this in another’s company, but…“_

_The smile on the doctor’s face was not seen, but definitely felt._

_"What I wouldn’t give to get my hands on a human soul…”_

\----

The abruptness of how quickly this tape ended after that dark statement was enough to give the viewing party whiplash.

They waited in a long, awkward silence, not one person seeking to catch another’s eye, before the next tape was played.

\----

_Dr. Gaster stood facing the camera, though his line of sight was pointed elsewhere. He looked defeated._

_"Entry number eight. I…“ He paused, then let out a weary sigh and massaged his forehead. "It seems I cannot put this off any longer. There have been sightings -_ rumors _of sightings, I should say. But Asgore takes them seriously, and he’s been insistent on results on my end. Heh, the timing is almost too uncanny; what with the dead ends I’ve come to with my 'other’ project…”_

_Dr. Gaster shook his head slowly, then looked to the camera proper. “Insofar, the purpose of this video journal has been to document my theoretical research into alternatives to destroying the barrier. However, as these things often go, theoretical research can only go so far without proper application. And seeing how lacking I am in that area…it’s time for a little 'detour’.”_

_He reached toward the camera, turning it toward a table with some sort of machine sitting on it._

_"The task King Asgore has assigned to me - what he thinks I’ve been working on since giving in to me - has been to prepare a vessel that will safely store a human soul,“ Gaster explained as he pulled a chair up to the table. "A task easier said than done, as I have since concluded. A human soul survives beyond the death of the body, yes, but it does not survive forever. The king plans on waiting until he has seven before absorbing even one, and God only knows the periods of time that will pass between the acquirement of a new soul. If more than one will even be acquired to begin with…”_

_He rapped his fingertips against the table’s surface for a bit. “I have given much thought as to how I might prepare such a vessel to contain the soul when the time comes. I first thought to create something that would mimic the human body, seeing as how efficient it is in housing the human soul, but have long since abandoned that notion. At one point I thought to try and convince Asgore to absorb the soul immediately, keeping it safe within himself. That, too, is a notion long abandoned. After much deliberation, and much more migraine-inducing experimentation, I believe I have the results Asgore’s been hounding me for.”_

_The doctor stooped down, disappearing beneath the table for a second, before rising back up. In his arms he now held a wide cylindrical container, in which could be seen through its thick glass some sort of clear liquid._

_"On its own,“ the doctor began explaining as he placed the container on the table, its contents sloshing around as it moved, "the contents of this container have no extraordinary qualities. With an electrical current applied, however, this solution produces a Novocaine-like sensation to any matter of magical origin. It will keep a soul in a comatose-like state; intact and stable until it is needed. I mean, it_ should _… But what guarantee is there until a soul is available…?”_

_His mouth was a thin line, the look in his sockets distant._

_"…Which is why it has come to this.“_

_Carefully, he slid the solution-filled container into a notch in the machine, locking it into place with two loud 'click’s. "Entry number eight will be a visual documentation of my experiment to test the potency of my soul-numbing formula. I will be using myself as a test subject, by taking a sample of my own body and submerging it in the solution.”_

_He walked out of the camera’s line of sight, his train of thought continuing in the distance. “Under normal circumstances, a monster’s body parts immediately shatter into dust when severed from the rest of the body and soul. That, of course, is not ideal for this experiment. So to address how to successfully detach a part of myself, and keep that piece intact and stable, I look to abnormal circumstances. Circumstances with which I am…very familiar with…”_

_He walked slowly back to the table, and just as slowly sat down at it. In his arms he cradled a bundle of fabric, which he then laid out onto the table. He handled the bundle as gently as he would an infant. For a while, he just sat there, staring in apprehension at the folded cloth._

_"…When monsters die,“ he stated in a monotone, "their loved ones, friends and family alike, spread their dust on that person’s favorite object, giving the sense that their essence lives on in that object. But…when they…”_

_The corner of his mouth twitched. A pained look cross his face, which he covered with his hand. “There was…no dust to spread. Only…this…”_

_One deep, forceful breath later, the doctor pulled himself back together, his expression set. “Whatever caused them to defy death as they did, I believe that essence must still remain in their remains. If I were to apply that essence to the sample I’ll take from myself, it should stand to reason that that piece will keep its form after detachment. I am well aware that what I plan to do violates some ethical boundaries…but…”_

_He trailed off, his pupils wandering to the lump en-swathed in cloth laying before him. Though it looked he was trying to hide it, he looked conflicted, ashamed._

_"…This is for the sake of our people’s future.“ He spoke in a small, whispering voice. A subtly shaking hand reached forward, caressed the lump with utmost gentleness. "Forgive me…my love…”_

_The doctor unfolded the cloth, unveiling another, smaller clear-glassed container. The contents of this one were gray, and faintly shimmering in the light. “I have already taken a sample of what I will refer to as…Subject A, for this experiment. Though the sample was originally gelatinous in nature, necessity required the sample to be less solid. In the liquefaction process, half of Subject A had to be used to produce a sufficient amount to be used in this experiment.”_

_Pain crossed his expression again, but only briefly. He picked up both the container and the syringe beside it. The container he turned upside-down, so that he could insert the syringe’s needle in through the bottom. A few silent seconds later, and one container was empty, another full._

_"For the sake of the experiment, I have judged that this sample should be directly applied to the area of my matter that will be taken before the actual sample-taking. For sake of simplicity and accessibility, the sample shall be taken from my hand; approximately three-quarters inch in diameter, right through the palm. I’ve judged that to be equal to the amount of the sample from Subject A that will be combined with my sample. And, excluding my skull, the surface area of my palm is the only area of myself that fits the requirements. Surely, people will ask questions, but I’ll think of something. I’ll…think of something…“_

_He trailed off, his pupils wandering across the scene before him. The gray, shimmering contents of the syringe. The container of serum attached to the machine. The restraints on both table and chair. The mechanism that looked like a cross between a circular cookie cutter and a guillotine._

_Only now did the doctor look nervous._

_”…You can do this,“ he said more to himself than to his recording equipment. "You’ve gone over all the variables a hundred times. The theory is sound enough. You’ve taken every precaution. You can do this. For the sake of your king. For the sake of your people. For the sake of the future. For the sake of your freedom. You. Can._ Do this _.”_

_Though his expression became resolute, Dr. Gaster’s hand was shaking as he reached out, and turned the camera away. It now focused on the shadow he and his machine cast against the wall._

_"Injecting Subject A’s extract now.“_

_The shadows showed a raised hand, and into it, a needle pressed. A plunger depressed, a syringe emptied. A needle removed, a hand lowered._

_"Extract successfully added. The sensation is…curious. Hard to put into words. No time to spare tyring to find them. The sample must be taken immediately.”_

_Movement. The sound of stretching leather, then clacking metal._

_"Restraints secured. Beginning extracting process in three…“_

_A faintly trembling shadow._

_"Two…”_

_A deep, shuddering intake of air._

_"One!“_

_A switched flicked. A machine whirred to life. A tubular mechanism plummeted._

_A blood-curdling howl of pain._

_Dr. Gaster’s shadow showed him bolting up, the restraints he confined himself into keeping him from going into a full-fledged violent fit. He did writhe, though, and though he did not let out another scream, whimpering gasps were a constant as the shadow of the tubular mechanism rose back up, more slowly than its descent. After a few more moments of hissing and gasping and other such noises, the shadow of a tremulous hand reached out. The camera shook as it was turned back to its original position._

_"Th…Th-The specimen…is c-contained…” Dr. Gaster was pale-faced, somehow more so than what was usual for a skeleton, sweat practically streaming down his skull. “B-Bonding is…g-good…stab-bility is g…good…it’s st-staying int-tact… Th-The serum…w-works…”_

_Through his heavy breathing, a breathless chuckle was heard. “G-Guess I can…mark this e-experiment…a success…”_

_A few laborious breaths later, Dr. Gaster moved to undo his restraints. He moved as though his joints were rusted, each inch gained accompanied by a strained grunt. As the last of the restraints were undone, the doctor cringed and hissed as he pulled his arm out, assessed himself._

_"M…My hand…st-still retains its…f-form…“ he observed, wincing as he then flexed his fingers. "M-Motor function r-remains…normal…Heh…a-and I assumed…I w-was ready t-to… G-Guess I’ll just…have t-to live with the…… M…maybe…a…heal…er…”_

_His speech becoming more slurred by the word, Dr. Gaster teetered, and finally passed out. He hit the camera as he collapsed onto the floor, knocking it over to its side. Its focus rested on the container of serum, a faintly glowing orb of shimmery gray matter floating unassumingly within the clear liquid._

\----

Every face was awash with deep discomfort as this latest tape ended.

"Shit, dude,“ Undyne muttered under her breath as she shook her head. ” _Shit_ …“

"How…how gruesome…” Toriel breathed, aghast. Beside her, Papyrus awkwardly rubbed his hand. More specifically, his palm.

"forget eccentric,“ Sans commented lowly. "this guy’s borderline mad scientist. geez…”

Alphys fidgeted. “Is…d-does anyone really want t-to keep watching?”

Shared looks spread around the group. Though the expressions they unanimously shared was enough for a reply, Asgore decided, “We have not yet found the answers we were told lie within. Until we do…we must persevere.”

Alphys sighed inwardly, already knowing everyone’s answer even before she asked the question, and played the next tape.

\----

_Dr. Gaster sat in front of the camera, looking a little tired, but otherwise amicable._

_"Entry number…“ He frowned, then ducked down for a second, rummaging through something off-screen. ”…Nine. That’s it; nine,“ he said as he righted himself and smoothed out his coat. "Heh, I haven’t made another entry since…”_

_Unease slipped into his expression. Frowning, he lifted his hand up, his pupils staring through the perfectly round hole in his palm. “…A sacrifice for the greater good, but I’ve learned to live with it,” he confessed softly. “I’ve learned to live with many things. Losing a loved one, imprisonment beneath this mountain, my little…'beauty marks’.”_

_He tapped a finger to one of the cracks on his skull, a tiny twitch going off in the corner of his mouth. “At the very least, my work has not been negatively affected by my new…'condition’. And speaking of my work.”_

_He stared through the camera, looking a little awestruck. “It’s happened. It’s actually happened. What I’ve been waiting for. What_ everyone _has been waiting for. It’s…finally…happened._

_"A human…has fallen.”_

_He let that statement stand for a while, his mind running behind his eyes._

_"…King Asgore has lived up to his promise to the people,“ he evenly stated, his voice low and emotionless. "Nearly as quickly as word spread of their presence, so had spread word of their…defeat. Seems I misjudged how quickly my invention prepared for this event would be implemented…”_

_He leaned back in his chair and sighed. “I still don’t approve of this plan of his. Yet I am in no position to challenge him. If only I could make more headway on my 'other’ project. To show him there’s another way…”_

_When Dr. Gaster looked back at the camera, there was a smile, somewhat bittersweet, on his face. “Which brings us to the purpose of this entry.”_

_He reached forward and turned the camera to his right. Its line of sight now focused on a large, cylindrical tank bolted to the floor. It was about half as tall as the room, yet nowhere near as thick. Through the thick glass composing most of its body, clear liquid could be seen. And there, floating within this translucent solution, silently shedding a calm, light blue light-_

_"Even though I was there to do the actual extraction, I had to wait a while before approaching the king; I figured it would be in bad taste to ask him while the blood had yet to-“ Dr. Gaster stopped himself there, and awkwardly cleared his throat. "It took a lot of reassuring and promises of regular updates, but at last, I finally have my hands on a human soul.”_

_That statement, too, he let sit and stew. The soul continued to shed its light silently._

_"…My current possession of this soul is strictly for scientific research, of course,“ the doctor disclaimed. "Though he did not say in so many words, the king has made it perfectly clear that I should not even consider thinking about doing anything else with it. Anything like, say, absorbing the soul myself.”_

_Dr. Gaster stood before the tank, his hands behind his back and his line of sight level with the soul. His reflection on the glass showed a neutral expression as his eyes scrutinized the little blue heart floating within. He was quiet for a very…very long time._

_"…Not that I have ever considered taking such actions myself, of course,“ he eventually said with a dismissive wave of the hand. "But, I must admit, it is a scary thought; how easy it’d be.”_

_He continued staring a moment longer before walking away. “Now, to find out exactly what makes the human soul tick. What makes them so powerful, when compared to the soul of a monster? What causes them to survive even after the body does not? This entry will mark the beginning of the tests I will conduct to answer those questions.”_

_The doctor came back into view, a long apparatus of some sort in his hands. “I will now attempt to take a small sample of the soul for closer examination,” he said as he began feeding the apparatus into the top of the tank. “Given the durability of human souls, taking a sample should not prove to be detrimental to-”_

_Dr. Gaster froze, and looked over his shoulder. He started turning his head back around when he froze again._

_An odd, sort of humming sound lingered in the air._

_Frowning, the doctor retracted and put down his apparatus, then walked out of sight. “There shouldn’t be anyone else here,” he muttered to himself as he walked off. “Not at this hour. I’ve sent everyone home already; who could possibly be…?”_

_A door opened, then closed. Dr. Gaster walked back into view, the suspicion in his expression dismissed as he resumed his task. “Must’ve been my imagination.” He kept his eyes focused on the apparatus as he began feeding it through a narrow slot in the top of the tank. “Note to self: get a decent amount of sleep toni-”_

_The odd humming started again, and just as suddenly stopped. A growl of anger preceded Dr. Gaster retracting the apparatus and slamming it down on the workbench beside him before turning and stomping off. A door roughly opened, then slammed shut._

_"I am not in the mood for practical jokes!“ he said aloud as he returned, his expression quite annoyed. "I have important work to do. Do not test my patience and let me work in-”_

_The hum sharply increased, then fell._

_As did a light blue light._

_All traces of irk and anger left the doctor. Muted shock replaced them. Slowly, hesitantly, he turned toward the tank, inched toward it, wide eyes focusing on the 'heart’ floating within._

_He was close enough that there was only a hair’s breadth between his face and the glass. One hand reached up, the tips of his fingers barely grazing the smooth, curved surface. “Wha…?”_

_The 'heart’ rushed toward him, buzzing as loudly as a cicada._

_Dr. Gaster yelped and fell back, tripping and landing flat on his backside. He hit the camera’s tripod during the fall, but it did not come tumbling down with him. Jostled for a moment, it settled back on the tank, in which something interesting was taking place._

_The soul no longer floated in the center of the tank, but was pressed up against the glass on the other side of where the doctor’s face had just been. It stayed there for a moment longer before it moved, darting through the solution as freely as moving through still air. This way and that, it seemed to be exploring the tank, peering through the glass, studying the room outside. The ethereal humming did not once falter._

_Then, the humming softened and the soul stilled, inches away from any of the surrounding glass. To look at it, and there was a sense of quiet contemplation. Slowly, so very very carefully and slowly, Dr. Gaster started righting himself-_

_The soul began to vibrate, its hum crescendo-ing to ear-piercing levels, before violently throwing itself against the glass._

_Dr. Gaster flinched as the soul rammed the glass. Over and over again, it battered itself against the cylindrical walls, each impact noiseless and leaving the glass completely unscathed. The light it shed grew brighter and brighter. Its humming louder and louder still._

_It almost sounded like screaming._

_"No…no no no no no NO_ NO _!“_

_A stream of curses followed as Dr. Gaster scrambled to his feet and out of sight. "Th-The potency must not be strong enough!” Loud crashing and rummaging was heard off-screen. “More power! I need more power!”_

_The soul was in a blinding, deafening frenzy. Dr. Gaster’s frantic scrambling could barely be acknowledged amid the madness. And it wasn’t until a change was seen in the soul’s behavior that there was any proof the doctor’s efforts were actually doing something._

_It was a gradual process, but the light was definitely growing softer, the hum receding. Dr. Gaster reappeared in front of the tank, this time holding some wired device with a knob on it, which he was steadily turning to the left. He was holding his breath, his eyes extremely focused on the soul. With each turn of the knob, the light grew fainter, the hum more smothered, until finally the 'heart’ was silent, its light dim and calm._

_Only then did the doctor release the breath he held, then slump into a nearby chair._

_Breathing heavily, he mopped his brow with his coat sleeve, his posture slack and fatigued. He looked back to the soul, his expression equal parts awed and horrified._

_"It’s sentient,“ he murmured, his voice reflecting his expression. "The soul, its consciousness…it’s still sentient. I…the possibility has crossed my mind before, yes, but still…to think that it’d be_ this _aware…”_

_His eyes drifted downward. He looked as though a great weight had suddenly been lowered onto his shoulders. His skull was bathed in the soul’s faint blue glow. The tick-tock of an unseen clock counted the silent seconds that passed._

_"…I’ll need to proceed more cautiously from now on.“ His face screwed up in resolution, Dr. Gaster stood, grabbed a nearby pen and notepad, and began jotting things down. "Reinforce the glass with stronger anti-magic sealant. Refine the potency of the formula. Perhaps a smaller container will be better suited for long-term confinement. I have to make sure the soul stays 'asleep’. Must make sure…it stays asleep…”_

_He paused, his eyes wandering back to the little blue 'heart’ suspended in the vat of serum. Its faint blue glow shed odd highlights on his face, made it look strangely hollow._

_"…Asgore can never know.“_

\----

The tape ended, and no one thought it wise to comment on the changed breathing patterns of two former monarchs, so the next one was played.

\----

_Dr. Gaster sat slumped in a chair, looking absolutely beside himself with shock._

_”…Entry…e-entry number…….“ A vague hand gesture dismissed his desire to keep track of the numbers anymore. "I…I…”_

_He made a weak noise and dropped his face into his hands. “How could I have overlooked this? Why was I not more attentive? But how could I have known…? Nothing like this has ever happened before. So how could I have known…?”_

_He gulped in a deep intake of air, then released it; his breath shuddered on the exhale. The dry rasp of bone against bone was heard as the doctor dragged his hands down his face. He stared at the ground for a while, then turned his sights elsewhere, the general direction being down and to his left._

_"…It happened about half a day ago,“ he began, his voice low and reflecting the awe on his face. "No, I should rephrase: I_ noticed _it about half a day ago. I had been working on making modifications to the soul containment project when I thought to look back to my first experiment with the project, to compare the old model to the new. That’s when I had realized…I could not remember where I had left the original container of serum. And when I found it…a-and the original sample…it…i-it…”_

_Dr. Gaster was shaking with some indescribable emotion, so much so his bones were making a soft rattle. Almost looking like he was going to be sick, he reached for the camera and turned it, pointed its lens down and to his left._

_A cardboard box sat on the floor, and in the box, swaddled in an old, dirty blanket, head resting on an equally old and dirty blanket rolled into a makeshift pillow, a tiny skeleton soundly slept._

_"When monsters decide to procreate,“ the doctor explained off-screen, his voice sounding somewhat constricted, "it is a very deliberate and consensual decision. The two monsters - more in some cases - share parts of themselves, parts of their very_ souls _, to create a new soul. That fledgling soul continues to grow within one of the participating monsters, with their partner or partners providing their magical energies to support its growth, until it is strong and stable enough. The resulting offspring is a mixture of the parent’s dominate traits, both in terms of outward appearance and magical ability.”_

_The tiny skeleton stirred, but did not wake._

_"It is…a very deliberate decision,“ the doctor repeated, his voice sounding like it was becoming increasingly harder to keep down whatever emotion he was experiencing. "A very…informed decision…but this…this…!”_

_A scrape of a chair, followed by what could be inferred as furious pacing came from off-camera. “This is unprecedented! To think it could ever happen when one participant was already deceased! But considering the unique circumstances of their death, and the state of their remains..! And the sample I provided… This just might confirm my theory that monsters’ bodies_ are _their souls! A-And when my genetic sample combined with theirs-! And incubated in this-this artificial womb-!!”_

_A tiny whine stopped the doctor dead in his tracks. The small skeleton fidgeted, eyelids scrunching, as it whined some more. When no other noise rose, the small skeleton eventually lulled back to sleep._

_The sound of Dr. Gaster’s shuddering breaths preceded the sound made when someone dropped to their knees._

_"We…we once talked about having our own…before the war broke out,“ confessed the doctor softly. ”…There’s…there’s no way this could be a clone; the necessary genetics would all have to come straight from me for that. So this…does this mean this new soul…this fragile new life…“_

_A shaky hand, a hole through its palm, slowly came into view, and gingerly caressed the tiny skeleton’s skull._

_"Is this…our child..?”_

\----

The time passed after the end of this tape in silence. A shocked, awkward silence that no one knew how to break, other than by putting in the next tape for viewing.

\----

_Dr. Gaster sat in front of the camera, looking run-down and ragged._

_"Entry number…would this be nine or ten? Or eleven?“ He paused in thought, then let out a hybrid between a groan and sigh and massaged his forehead. "Maybe I should pre-number the rest of the tapes. That way, the only issue would be at what point no more tapes will be recorded. …Yes. Yes, I should do just that…”_

_For a second, it looked as though the doctor had fallen asleep. Proof that he hadn’t came in the form of him letting out a sigh, then lifting his head to look into the camera._

_"When I made my previous entry,“ he stated, his tone unreadable, "I did so under the impression that I was in a waking dream. In fact the entire reason for making that entry was so I could have proof of whether it was real or not. I had been so in shock, I questioned the reality I had found myself in. Since then, thankfully, I have become more lucid, and thoroughly convinced I had not been hallucinating. And since becoming re-secured in reality…I could not stop thinking about it.”_

_The doctor leaned forward, brow furrowed, and brought his clasped-together hands up to rest his mouth against. “Though I no longer questioned whether it happened or not, I did question other circumstances surrounding it. Was it just a fluke? A strange twist of fate? Was it a once-in-a-lifetime chance that my actions bore such consequences? …Could it happen again?”_

_His eyes narrowed with that last remark. “Such questions burned within me, making me lose many nights rest and peace of mind until I could bear it no more. It took much time going over the numbers, triple checking everything, and even more time wrestling with my own conscience and morality, but in the end…I…”_

_Something akin to shame surfaced through the doctor’s thoughtful countenance. His shoulders trembling slightly, he leaned back and stared solemnly down at his unclasped hands._

_Both of which had perfectly matching, perfectly round holes straight through the palms._

_"…I had to know…“ His voice was small, the tremors in his shoulders now extending all the way down to his hands. "I had to try…to see for myself how it happened…I h…had to be sure…it would work again…”_

_He clasped his hands back together with a small rasp, and lowered them slowly onto his lap. His eyes closed, and a deep exhaled passed between his teeth. The tick-tock of an unseen clock passed the seconds of silence that then passed._

_"…………It did.“_

_He straightened, his demeanor becoming more professional, almost business-like. "Using the remainder of Subject A, combined with tissue taken from my right palm, I have repeated my first experiment. The two samples have combined, germinated, and a new…subject has developed. I have been monitoring its progress quite closely since then, and soon, I believe it will be at the same stage of development at which I first discovered the first…subject. I have…scarcely left its incubation tube for more than half an hour since the moment of conception, actually…”_

_A small frown on his face, he propped one elbow on the arm of his chair, then rested his chin in his propped-up hand. He gazed off to the side, a distant look in his white pupils._

_"There was only one exception to this. Four days ago, an issue arose in the Core that only I could remedy. All the while, I had experienced anxiety on levels I’ve never felt before. That anxiety did not lessen until the problem was resolved, and I returned to this annex of the lab, where the new……subject’s incubation tank is. But, even after assuring no significant changes or complications arose in my absence, the anxiety remained.“_

_The doctor was looking more thoughtful by the minute. "That…confused me at first. I could not understand why I was so uneasy, when I have dealt with situations far more pressing and stressful than this; I created what is essentially a gigantic nuclear reactor from scratch for God’s sake! Why would the thought of being away from this-this experiment for more than an hour upset me so?”_

_Dr. Gaster now looked distressed. After some slow breathing exercises, something akin to shame surfaced in him._

_"…After thinking about it at length, losing many a good night’s sleep pondering it, I believe I know the answer now. Why I experienced separation anxiety. Why I hesitate to call them 'subjects’. Why I have been monitoring the new one’s development so, dare I say it…_ obsessively _.“_

_What resembled shame became more pronounced. "It is because I-”_

_The creak of a door opening silenced the doctor. Tensing, he looked to the origin of the noise. When his gaze turned downward, his entire demeanor shifted, brightened, did a complete one-eighty._

_"Little one,“ he said, almost cooed, a gentle, kindly smile on his face. "What are you doing out of bed?”_

_"mmmm thirs'y…“ answered a young, sleepy voice._

_"Thirsty, eh?” Dr. Gaster rose from his chair. “Alright, wait there; I’ll get you some water.”_

_His long stride carried him out of the camera’s view, and when his footsteps ceased, the sound of rummaging picked up. Amid that noise, the muffled shuffle of small, unsteady feet came closer._

_"who you talkin’ to?“ the young, sleepy voice from before asked, much closer than before._

_"Oh, no one,” Dr. Gaster’s voice answered from afar. “Just myself.”_

_Running water could be heard in the distance. In much closer proximity, stoft grunting accompanied the sight the camera caught of something small and wearing footed pajamas struggling to get into the doctor’s chair._

_"Need some help there?“_

_A faint blue aura surrounded the pajama-ed figure, who then rose off the chair and into the air. The back of Dr. Gaster’s black coat came into view, and became the only thing the camera recorded for a moment. After some shuffling, he was sitting back in his chair, one hand holding a beaker full of water, the other coated in a faint blue glow._

_The same kind of glow surrounding the pajama-wearing skeleton, looking about the size of a toddler, that then floated onto his lap._

_"than kuu, da,” the smaller skeleton said as the aura dispersed, a seemingly immovable grin on their face._

_Dr. Gaster grinned back. “You’re welcome.” Free hand on the toddler’s back, he moved the beaker of water toward their mouth. “Here, drink up-”_

_"no, no!“ the toddler protested, tiny hands harmlessly smacking the doctor’s chest. "i wunna do it!”_

_The doctor cocked a would be brow. “All by yourself?”_

_The toddler nodded. “awl by mysef!”_

_After a moment of consideration, Dr. Gaster held the beaker out. The smaller skeleton grinned at the taller, then grabbed the beaker with both hands. It wasn’t a particularly big beaker, but the toddler had to use not just their hands, but their whole arms just to grab and take it out of the doctor’s grasp. They struggled then to get into a good position for drinking, making small noises throughout the struggle. Dr. Gaster, his hand free, propped his elbow back on the chair’s arm, and propped the side of his head against his knuckles. The smile on his face was small, genuine, full of anticipation as the toddler in his lap raised the beaker to their teeth-_

_-then spilled about half its contents onto their face, and down the front of their pajamas._

_The toddler blinked in confusion, then the mess they had made finally registered. “…oops.”_

_The doctor laughed. It was a genuine, hearty sound that made the toddler stare at him, hints of hurt and tears in their eyes._

_"Ah ha ha ha, hoh, oh, don’t worry, little one.“ Using the sleeve of his coat, Dr. Gaster mopped up the water dripping down the toddler’s chin, and wiped away the beginnings of tears in their sockets. "You’ll get the hang of it soon enough.”_

\----

The seed of suspicion, surreptitiously, had been planted when viewing the tape previous to this one.

It took root as the viewing of this tape began.

The longer the video recording ran, the more the suspicion grew.

Now, as the recording ended on that final scene, to ignore the uncanniness any longer was downright painful.

"…N…No way…“ Undyne gaped.

"Oh…o-oh my……” Alphys balked.

"It…could it be…?“ Asgore murmured.

"Is it…even possible…?” Toriel breathed.

In unison, every head turned to Toriel’s left.

"B…BROTHER…?“

Sans did not acknowledge everyone’s bewildered looks. Not at first. His line of sight remained perfectly trained on the wall-mounted screen for what felt like days before he slowly turned to them. His expression completely blank, he met each of their gazes one at a time, seemingly staying on Papyrus’ longer than on anyone elses. Alphys’ was the last one he held, and soon after he did, his face settled into a carefree expression.

"whatcha waitin’ for, alph?” he asked, voice in his trademark casual drawl, his head turning to face the wall monitor once again. “g'head and play the next one already.”

There was tension in his posture. There was strain in his voice. There was a tempest brewing behind his eyes. Daring not to test how long the calm before the storm would last, Alphys shakily prepared the next tape for viewing.

\----

_Dr. Gaster was nowhere to be seen. Instead, a skeleton far smaller and younger than the doctor stood before the camera (which did not sit perfectly still), striking a rather dynamic pose._

_"HAVE YOU TAKEN THE PICTURE YET, BROTHER?“ the skeleton asked, voice quite loud for one so young._

_"i think so, bro,” answered a voice that came from behind the camera. “i pressed the button an’ everything, but it didn’t make a noise or anything.”_

_The young skeleton dropped his pose. “YOU MUST NOT HAVE PRESSED IT HARD ENOUGH!” he determined as he dashed toward the camera. “LET ME SEE IT!”_

_"sure thing, bro.“ The camera passed between hands, and it was revealed that a second skeleton (seemingly close to the same age as the first one) had been behind it. "just be careful with it.”_

_"NYEH! OF COURSE I WILL!“ The camera shook much more in the first skeleton’s possession than the second’s, possibly because he was turning it this way and that in his hands. After a while, the camera was pointed upwards at the ceiling. "ARE YOU EVEN SURE THIS IS A CAMERA? IT DOES NOT LOOK LIKE ANY CAMERA I’VE SEEN BEFORE.”_

_"dad said it was.“ Footsteps approached, then there were two faces peering into the camera’s lens. Their eyes were the most visible facial feature; one narrow and hollow, the other wide with a pinprick of white inside. "unless…he was pullin’ a fast one on me?”_

_"Now,“ interjected a voice from afar, "why would I ever do that?”_

_The two young skeletons exclaimed in shock. The view the camera captured rose up, higher than either of the two young skeletons could reach, and as it leveled out, Dr. Gaster could be seen. He stood near a door, one hand raised and coated in a faint blue glow, and looking somewhat peeved._

_"And, while we’re on the subject-“ He walked closer to the camera, a frown on his face as he stopped and looked down at the unseen youngsters. ”-would either of you care to tell me when I gave you permission to play with this?“_

_There was noises that implied that the two young skeletons were fidgeting uncomfortably under the doctor’s disapproving stare. "S-SORRY, DAD…”_

_"sorry…“_

_The doctor’s expression held a moment longer, then he cracked a smile. "I’m not mad,” he assured the two. “You just need to ask permission next time. Okay?”_

_Two 'okay’s answered the doctor. Still smiling, he stooped down, his magic bringing the camera down with him. “You were both right, by the way,” he explained as his magic safely placed the camera in his hands. “This is a camera, and it is indeed not like the cameras you’ve seen before. Whereas those cameras capture still pictures, this one records videos.”_

_"videos?“ one brother asked, and with the camera turned toward the two of them, it saw both of them tilting their heads to one side in curiosity. "you mean like on tv?”_

_"In a sense, yes, but-“_

_"YOU MEAN WE’RE GOING TO BE ON TV?!” the other brother asked, unbridled joy overtaking his expression._

_"Well-“_

_In a flash, the camera was snatched out of the doctor’s hands by the slightly taller brother. "WE’RE GOING TO BE ON TV! WE’RE GOING TO BE ON TV! THIS IS THE COOLEST THING EVER!!”_

_"slow down, bro,“ the slightly shorter brother cautioned as the camera spun around._

_But it seemed the one brother’s cautions were thrown to the wind as, judging by the chaotic way the camera captured the space around it, the one in current possession of device ran around the room with reckless abandon. "I’M GONNA GO MAKE MY ACTION FIGURE COLLECTION BE ON TV, TOO!” announced the camera-holder as the room’s door was rushed towards._

_The “wait up!” from the other brother was drowned out by the loud, stomping footfalls of the one holding the camera as it recorded the door opening to a dimly-lit corridor. The camera-holder ventured into it, then ran down the hallway, giggling uniquely. The camera rounded the corner-_

_"OOF!“_

_-and ran smack into a leg._

_The impact was enough to topple the camera-holder off his feet and to the floor. The camera, thankfully, was not negatively affected by the fall. Distant footsteps hurried to the scene._

_"geez, bro,” a coming-closer voice chastised, sounding winded. “that’s why you gotta slow down every once in a-oh.”_

_The camera briefly captured the sight of the other young skeleton walking into view, then him looking up and freezing. The camera was then pointed up and at the monster whom the leg it had run into belonged to. “HELLO, STRANGER! WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE ON TV, TOO?”_

_The monster was tall, furry, golden-bearded, and hand horns atop their head. They were staring forward, seeming completely unfazed by the impact that knocked the one skeleton completely off his feet, a dreary look on their face. At the latest question, their head turned down to the camera, and the brothers behind it._

_A haunted look then overcame the tall monster’s face. A few silent seconds later, and their expression became jolly._

_"Well, howdy!“ the monster greeted in a deep, rumbling voice, and bent down to help the one brother back to his feet. "I don’t believe I’ve seen you two before; what are your names?”_

_"I’M PAPYRUS!“ immediately answered the brother holding the camera. "AND THIS IS SANS! HE’S MY BIG BROTHER! EVEN THOUGH I’M TALLER!”_

_"yeah, by, like, half an inch,“ the older brother protested, the way the camera moved afterward suggesting a playful shove happened after the exchange. "heya.”_

_A deep, throaty chuckle came from the tall, horned monster. “It is nice to meet you, Papyrus and Sans. My name is-”_

_"Your Majesty..!“_

_The camera swiveled around, and rested on the face of Dr. Gaster, who was as stiff as a statue and looking as though he just got caught his hand caught in the cookie jar._

_”'your majesty’?“ repeated the older brother’s voice, the camera swiveling to his face in time to capture the widening of his sockets in surprise. "you mean this guy’s the king?”_

_A gasp was heard from the younger brother. “WOWIE! I’M MEETING THE KING!” The camera swiveled once again to focus on the tall, horned monster kneeling before the three skeletons. “AND NOW THE KING IS GOING TO BE ON TV WITH DAD, BROTHER, AND ME!”_

_"…'Dad’?“ The king’s expression fell, his curious gaze slowly shifting between where the two brothers stood, and where their father did. "So then, these are your…? But I thought… Wasn’t your… So how did…?”_

_Cluelessness turned into suspicion, with the faintest traces of anger laced in. The king’s head turned back up, and the camera followed his line of sight to find it pointed directly at Dr. Gaster’s face. And the doctor, his shrunken white pupils frantically darting back and forth between the king and the two young skeletons between himself and the king, was looking more and more like an animal caught in the headlights of a speeding car by the second._

_"I can explain!“ was the last thing heard as Dr. Gaster grabbed at the camera, turning it off in the process._

\----

The ending of this tape prompted the gazes of several monsters to look back and forth between two who sat on the bed, silence and awkwardness abounding.

”…Wait.“

The rustling made by Alphys shifting through the tapes to pull out the next one ceased. Her eyes, along with most of the others’, turned to the monster sitting between the two everyone had been staring at.

"Sans…Papyrus…” Her soft, calm voice was a soothing balm as she looked to each of the brothers, worry lining her face. “It seems that these recordings have become of a…very personal nature to the both of you. If…If at any point either of you are no longer comfortable letting the rest of us watch what remains-”

"we don’t mind. do we, pap?“

Toriel turned an admonishing glare onto the skeleton to her left; with his sights ever trained upon the wall-mounted screen, he didn’t even flinch. Then she looked to the one on her right, lines of worry once again shaping her expression.

"I…NO. OF COURSE I DON’T MIND.” Nodding decisively, Papyrus looked down at where Alphys sat near him. “FEEL FREE TO PLAY THE NEXT ONE AT ANY TIME, DR. ALPHYS!”

He also turned and fixed his sights on the wall-mounted screen. Though he was undoubtedly trying to hide it, his expression and confidence then fell a fraction.

The rest of the gathered, unease slipping into their expressions, all looked between each other silently before Alphys, very shakily, played tape number thirteen.

\----

_The camera was pointed at a pair of feet, which were hanging over a ledge and happily kicking back and forth, skimming the water beneath._

_"WHEN’S THE BOAT GONNA GET HERE?“ a voice asked, the camera turning up to focus on the looming figure of Dr. Gaster, a bag over his shoulders and his face somewhat darkened by the cavern’s shadows._

_”…The Riverperson only arrives precisely when they are needed,“ answered the doctor after a moment, looking down at the camera and smiling. "And takes people exactly where they need to be. They are a very enigmatic individual, but I, personally, have never had to wait longer than ten minutes for their ferry to arrive.”_

_"HOW MANY HAS IT BEEN SO FAR?“_

_"Less than one.”_

_"UURRGH! WHY CAN’T IT BE HERE NOW!?“_

_Dr. Gaster chuckled sympathetically and reached past the camera. The sound of bone on bone suggested the action of his hand rubbing the top of a skull. "Why don’t you do something to pass the time? Color, perhaps?”_

_"FFFFFIIIIIIIIIINE,“ the voice begrudgingly replied, and the camera was turned and set down on the ground. It focused on the young skeleton that had been holding it, who was now taking off and reaching into the backpack he’d been carrying. He pulled out a spiral notebook and a box of crayons, laid the former in his lap, and dug a red crayon out of the later._

_"What are you drawing, Papyrus?” the doctor asked from off-screen._

_"SINCE YOU WON’T TELL US WHAT OUR NEW HOUSE LOOKS LIKE, I’M DRAWING WHAT I THINK OUR NEW HOUSE LOOKS LIKE!“ answered the young skeleton, the crayon moving across the page sporadically._

_"I told you, it’s a surprise,” the doctor insisted. “I know the anticipation’s killing you…but it looks as though it won’t have the chance to finish the job. Look to your left.”_

_The young skeleton did, and whatever he saw made him squeal in delight. “THE FERRY’S HERE!” Quickly he replaced the crayon, stuffed the box and notebook back into his backpack, slung it over his shoulders, and picked the camera back up. It was pointed toward one end of a darkened tunnel, from which a hooded figure manning a long, gondola-like vessel serenely approached. A delightful humming grew louder as the boat floated closer, stopping only when the boat docked, and the hooded figure’s hood turned to appraise the skeletal passengers._

_"HELLO, RIVERPERSON!“ the youngest skeleton greeted._

_The hood moved as if nodding; no face nor other distinguishable feature could be seen beneath that dark blue cowl. "Tra la la. Care for a ride?” a voice coming from deep within the cloak asked._

_"YES, PLEASE!“_

_"Where will we go today?”_

_"MY BROTHER, DAD, AND I ARE MOVING TO SNOWDIN! CAN YOU TAKE US THERE?“_

_"Tra la la. Certainly.” The hood turned away, toward the helm and the opposite end of the tunnel. “Climb aboard.”_

_The camera whipped around to catch the sight of Dr. Gaster stepping onto the smooth lacquer first. He then sat cross-legged at the stern, depositing his baggage behind him, and held his hand out toward the camera._

_"Step carefully, now,“ he cautioned as a skeletal hand - much smaller than his, and far less holey - took his, followed by the sound of feet plopping onto the boat, making it bounce. The camera work then suggested its handler swaying before finding balance, then sitting down on the doctor’s right. "YOUR TURN, BROTHER!”_

_The camera pointed back toward the dock, where the other brother, backpack over one shoulder, still stood. Though he was smiling, he looked distracted, and ignored the hand offered by the doctor when stepping into and sitting down on the boat._

_"Then we’re off…“ announced the Riverperson, and the ferry set off._

_The boat seemed to move on its own accord, gliding smoothly through the quiet waters with scarcely any turbulence. Not even when the camera’s handler clambered to the boat’s edge and peered over it, the camera catching its reflection and the reflection of young skeleton manning it. Giggling, he reached a hand out and dipped into the water, watching the trail it left behind in the flow as he moved it back and forth. The Riverperson hummed softly, the sound harmonizing with the lapping of the waves against, and bouncing off the somewhat rounded walls of the tunnel._

_"Tra la la. Maybe not this time, but the truth will become clear…”_

_"HUH?“ The young skeleton pulled his hand out of the water, and pivoted the camera around so it focused on the back of the Riverperson’s cloak. ”'THIS TIME’?“_

_But the Riverperson said no more, returning to their song without missing a beat. The camera swiveled around to the rear of the boat. "WHAT DO THEY MEAN, 'THIS TIME’?”_

_Dr. Gaster shrugged dismissively, if not in defeat. “I’ve found that the pearls of wisdom the Riverperson gives rarely make any sense, but listening to what they have to say in exchange for a ride on their ferry seems a fair trade, don’t you think?”_

_"HMM…“ The camera turned back to the cloaked figure, their behavior suggesting they were entirely unaware of the gossiping literally behind their back. Either that or they were just ignoring it. "I SUPPOSE SO…”_

_The Riverperson’s song continued, the acoustics of the river system subtly changing as the tunnel grew wider, opened up a little more. The lighting was changing as well; it was getting brighter. Trees were spotted coming up on the port side, trees frosted with-_

_"OH MY GOD EVERYTHING’S COVERED IN VANILLA ICE CREAM!“_

_Dr. Gaster’s good-natured chuckle was perceived through the noise following this joyous proclamation; the ferry docking, a pair of feet immediately jumping off the wood and onto the snow-covered ground, the crunch of snow underfoot as someone stomped around through it. That one was accompanied by the peal of a child’s joyous laughter before the camera was set down, possibly so that its handler could explore the new environment with as much reckless abandon as he so pleased; his skeletal form shrunk into the white expanse as he ran through and kicked up and dove into the snowbanks._

_Coming from behind the camera, two more sets of feet could be heard disembarking the ferry, followed after by Dr. Gaster’s voice saying, "Thank you for our safe passage.”_

_"Come again some time,“ singsonged the Riverperson. "Tra la la.”_

_The Riverperson’s song grew distant, until it was nothing more than a lingering echo. The camera remained focused on the snowy landscape, splashes of color darting across the expanse marking the young skeleton’s location._

_"…You have been awfully quiet, Sans,“ remarked Dr. Gaster, his voice still coming from behind the camera. "Did the boat ride make you sleepy?”_

_There was no reply. In the distance, the small skeleton tripped and fell flat on his face, disappearing into a snowdrift._

_The doctor could be heard sighing. “I understand it can be scary to move somewhere new, but I really think you’re going to enjoy it here. You and your brother will have your own rooms, we’ll actually have a fully functional kitchen, and I’m sure there are some children here around your age that you can make friends with. Doesn’t that sound a whole lot better than staying cooped up in that dingy old lab all the time?”_

_No reply. A skull popped up out of the snow, grinning broadly, as hands threw handfuls of snow into the air._

_"…We can always go back and visit if you really want t-“_

_"did you get fired 'cuz of pap and me?”_

_It was quiet for a moment, then the doctor snorted. “Fired? HA! As if anyone in their right mind would ever fire_ me _!”_

_The doctor chortled, but he did so alone. Eventually realizing this, he was hear awkwardly clearing his throat._

_"Ah, er, ahem. It seems you have misread the situation, Sans. I should have explained it in greater detail earlier. And for that, I apologize.“ There was a pause, a straightening of posture inferred in the following quiet, before the doctor gave a (apparently) much needed explanation. "Allow me to explain now. For starters, I did not get fired.”_

_"but the king looked really mad at you,“ argued a younger voice._

_The doctor 'hmm'ed softly. "That is because I started and worked on a project I did not get his permission to carry out beforehand. A key point of my position as the Royal Scientist is that I must have the King’s seal of approval before starting any of my projects. Otherwise, there would be reprimands and punishments.”_

_"like getting fired…“_

_"I was_ not _fired, Sans,” the doctor stressed. “My position as Royal Scientist is still intact. But for going behind the King’s back as I did, as punishment, he is making me take what he calls a 'forced vacation’. He thinks I’ve been spending an unhealthy amount of time working, and that the lab is an unsuitable environment for raising children.”_

_A hint of sourness had entered the doctor’s voice in that last statement. It left as he concluded, “And so, here we are. By order of the King, I have procured a more suitable home for raising my children, into which we will immediately move, and have taken an indefinite leave of absence from my duties as Royal Scientist.” It was scarcely heard, but he added under his breath, “With a few exceptions, of course…”_

_The young skeleton in the distance had ceased throwing snow into the air above him, and had begun contenting himself with making snow angels._

_"…are you mad at us for getting you in trouble?“_

_The doctor did not reply, at first, but there was a smile in his voice when he did. "I did not get in trouble because of you or Papyrus, Sans. I had been tempting fate for a long time by keeping this project secret; it was bound to blow up in my face eventually. And though I knew it was an eventuality, I had done nothing to prepare myself for the repercussions. I was…upset, at first, because of that, yes, but I was certainly not angry at you or your brother. I made an error, and now I’m paying for it. This was no one’s fault but my own. Remember that.”_

_The doctor went quiet again, to let the words sink in. The young skeleton in the distance appeared to be coming closer._

_"…Besides.“ The doctor’s tone brightened. "The silver lining to be found here trumps any negative feelings I have about all this: Now, I have time to spend more quality time with my two favorite creations!”_

_At first, no reply. Then, a snicker. “heh heh, and here i thought we were your sons.”_

_"Semantics, dear boy,“ the doctor dismissed, the view the camera captured rising as it was lifted up. "Semantics.”_

_As sounds were made suggesting that the camera was being dusted off, the young skeleton returned to his family. “CAN WE GO SEE OUR NEW HOUSE NOW?”_

_"all done playin’ in the snow, bro?“ his brother asked._

_"SNOW? IS THAT ANOTHER WORD FOR VANILLA ICE CREAM?”_

_"heh. sure is, pap.“_

_"IN THAT CASE, YES. I AM DONE PLAYING IN THE SNOW FOR NOW. BUT YOU ARE GOING TO JOIN ME NEXT TIME, BROTHER! PLAYING IN THE SNOW IS GOING TO BE TWICE AS FUN IF YOU PLAY WITH ME!”_

_"you got it, bro.“_

_The camera watched as the older brother brushed snow off the clothes and head of the younger for a while before its current handler asked. "So, you’re ready to see our new house now?”_

_Both brothers looked up and nodded, one quite quickly, the other not as much._

_"Alright. Papyrus, take your brother’s hand. Sans, take mine. Now close your eyes and follow me.“_

_The doctor led the two boys down a snow-blanketed path, forested areas filled with tall pine trees flanking either side. In the distance signs of a settlement could be seen._

_"YOU DID NOT STOP THE RECORDING WHILE I WAS PLAYING, DID YOU?” the younger brother’s voice inquired._

_"No, I did not,“ the doctor’s answered._

_"GOOD! I WANT EVERY PART OF OUR MOVE TO BE RECORDED, SO WE CAN REMEMBER IT ALWAYS! NYEH HEH HEH HEH!”_

_The camera watched as the family entered the town proper. Though there was potential to be a heavily populated town, it was not very lively as the family made their way down what appeared to be the main street. The camera turned down toward the street, capturing the sight of the steps its handler took._

_"Your eyes are still closed, right?“ the doctor asked the brothers._

_"MM-HMM!”_

_"yep.“_

_"You’re not peeking, are you?”_

_"NUH-UH!“_

_"nope.”_

_"Good. Very good.“ Its handler stopped moving forward, but the camera kept pointing at the ground. "Now, when I next say 'now’, you can open them back up. Understand?”_

_"YES!“_

_"sure thing.”_

_"Okay. Three…Two…One…“ The camera was lifted, then pointed at the two brothers’ closed-eyes, widely-grinning faces. "Now!”_

_Both pairs of sockets opened at the same time. The younger brother’s reaction was immediate; his smile broadened considerably, a squeal of delight burst from it, and he bounced up and down where he stood a few times before sprinting off toward whatever lay before him._

_His brother’s was not quite so animated. He simply stood there staring, completely starstruck, before slowly looking up past the camera. “_ that’s _our new house?”_

_The camera moved up and down, as if nodding along with its handler._

_"and we can afford it? i thought houses were really expensive, and this one’s so big…“_

_A coy chuckle made the camera bounce slightly. "I’m taking a 'forced’ vacation, not an unpaid one. And the King is not a stingy employer when it comes to wages.”_

_The shorter skeleton stared up at the taller a while longer before his head turned back around, gaze focusing on where his brother ran off toward. The beginnings of tears began to well in the corners of his sockets._

_"…Do you like it?“ the doctor softly asked._

_”…no. i_ love _it.“ The shorter skeleton sniffled, then dried his face on the sleeve of his shirt. "thanks, dad.”_

_A hand, bone white and with a perfectly round hole through its palm, reached forward and tenderly rubbed the young skeleton’s head. “You’re welcome…my son.”_

_"DAD! BROTHER! STOP STANDING THERE LIKE A BUNCH OF LAZYBONES AND COME SEE OUR NEW HOUSE! IT HAS STAIRS!!“_

_"we’re comin’, bro! be careful with them stairs, alright?”_

_A distant 'NYEH’ echoed in response as father and son walked forward, the camera now pointed at the quaint two-story house the two were approaching._

_"…hey, dad?“_

_"Yes?”_

_"that project you were working on, the one that got you in trouble with the king; what was it about?“_

_The camera stopped moving. The corner of its lens caught sight of the older brother slowly coming to a halt, turning his head around, and tilting it in confused curiosity._

_Dr. Gaster was quiet for a long time._

_”…I’ll tell you when you’re older.“_

_And the tape ran out of recording space._

\----

”…You holdin’ up okay, Papyrus?“

Prompted by Undyne’s gentle inquiry, eyes turned to the tall skeleton sitting on the bed against which she sat.

”…YES,“ he answered after a moment. "I AM HOLDING UP OKAY.”

Somehow, he looked paler than usual. This was the biggest counterpoint that made the others skeptical. “How are you feeling?” Asgore next inquired.

Papyrus looked down between his feet. “I…DO NOT HAVE THE WORDS TO DESCRIBE HOW I AM FEELING, YOUR MAJESTY,” he answered quietly.

"maybe your feelin’ like we should see what’s on the next tape.“

Many a stink eye turned to the other skeleton on the mattress. "We weren’t asking  _you_ ,” spat Undyne.

A wall of indifference reflected the spite and the stares. Sans remained fully unfazed.

"NO, I…I BELIEVE HE’S RIGHT, UNDYNE.“ Papyrus straightened, looked back to the wall-mounted monitor. "PERHAPS WHAT I AM FEELING IS DESIRE TO SEE MORE.”

Even more uneasy, worried glances were shared between the others. Amid the exchange, a small, bandaged hand reached out to touch Papyrus’ large, gloved one.

Papyrus, feeling the light pressure through the fabric, looked to the hand’s owner and managed a weak smile. “IT’S OKAY,” he insisted, and succeeded in sounding at least a little reassuring as he took the hand in his own, and gave it a tiny squeeze. “I’M OKAY. REALLY.”

Again, he turned back to the screen. “I WANT TO KNOW MORE…”

A tiny sniffle preluded the playing of tape number fourteen.

\----

_The camera caught the beginning of a conversation as its handler walked briskly down a dimly lit hallway._

_"-LY THINK HE’D BE HERE?“_

_"he only goes to the core when there’s an emergency, and there hasn’t been one in at least a few months. besides home, this is the only place i can think of where he’d be.”_

_"I STILL CAN BELIEVE HE WOULD MISS YOUR SCIENCE FAIR! ESPECIALLY WHEN I FINALLY FOUND THE CAMERA AGAIN AFTER HE MISPLACED IT DURING THE MOVE! AND ESPECIALLY SINCE YOU WON FIRST PLACE WITH YOUR SELF-SUSTAINING TORNADO!“_

_"you still got the recording, right? you can show that to him.”_

_"IT IS NOT THE SAME, SANS! HE SAID HE WOULD BE THERE WITH US!“_

_"he’s a busy guy with an important job. somethin’ must have come up-”_

_"HE PROMISED HE’D BE THERE! NO MATTER WHAT!“_

_"bro, stop.”_

_The camera’s handler was stopped and spun around. The camera itself was pointed up at an odd angle, toward the underside of the older brother’s skull._

_"pap, listen, it’s okay,“ the older brother assured, and it looked as though he had his arms on the younger brother’s shoulders. "i’m not mad or upset or anything like that, so don’t get mad for me, okay? i’m sure he has a good reason for why he didn’t come, so let’s just go home and wait for him to explain himself then.”_

_Neither brother moved nor said anything for a minute. Then the younger spun around and started marching again. “ABSOLUTELY NOT!” he proclaimed. “THAT MAY BE ENOUGH FOR A LAZYBONES LIKE YOU, BUT NOT FOR THE GREAT PAPYRUS! DAD NEEDS TO KNOW RIGHT NOW HOW MUCH TROUBLE HE’S IN FOR GOING BACK ON HIS WORD AND MISSING YOUR CROWNING MOMENT!”_

_A defeated sigh was heard in the distance, followed after by a less distant, “and exactly how much trouble is he in, bro?”_

_"ENOUGH THAT HE HAS TO DO A HUNDRED-NO._ TWO _HUNDRED PUZZLES EVERY DAY FOR AN ENTIRE WEEK!“_

_"ah,_ that _much trouble.” The older brother snickered. “heh, i sure don’t want to be him right…now…”_

_Two sets of footfalls slowed to one. The camera stopped moving forward, and did an about-face. “AREN’T YOU COMING, BROTHER?”_

_The older brother had stopped where two hallways intersected, his head turning left and right and left again before turning toward the camera. He looked confused. “hey, bro, what time is it?”_

_The camera caught the sound of the younger brother huffing and stomping his foot. “OHH, NO. I AM_ NOT _FALLING FOR THAT WHOLE 'BETTER GET A WATCH’ JOKE AGAIN-”_

_"no, i mean…if it’s what time i think it is, then shouldn’t the lab be a bit busier this time of day?“_

_A moment of stillness, then the camera’s holder moved closer to where the older brother stood. "Y…YOU’RE RIGHT. THAT IS STRANGE; WHERE IS EVERYONE?”_

_The camera stopped a few paces away from the older brother, and turned as its handler did; looking back and forth down dark and empty corridors, searching for any sign that they were not as empty as they-_

_"wait isn’t that the king?“_

_The camera turned again, and down at one end of a corridor, caught a glimpse of someone big and burly moving through the shadows._

_"MAYBE HE KNOWS WHERE DAD IS!” the younger brother reasoned, then called, “HELLO, YOUR MAJESTY! DO YOU KNOW WHERE OUR FATHER IS?”_

_The big, burly figure did not react to the brother’s calls. He simply kept walking, slowly disappearing down an adjacent corridor. The camera turned back to the older brother. “DOES HE SEEM…DIFFERENT TO YOU?”_

_"yeah,“ the older brother agreed with a nod. "he looks like…like he’s sick or something.”_

_"MAYBE THAT’S WHY HE’S HERE!“_

_"i don’t think dad’s that kind of doctor, bro.”_

_"NEVERTHELESS! I THINK WE SHOULD GO ACCOMPANY HIM! HE LOOKS LONELY!“ A hand reached out from behind the camera and took the older brother’s. "COME, BROTHER!”_

_At a pace quicker than that of the big, burly figure, the camera pursued after him, noises of the older brother slowly accepting his brother’s tugging him along coming from behind the camera. The brothers soon caught up to him, just as he turned into a room, from which a light was pouring. The camera watched his lumbering steps, his horned head hanging down even though the door frame was tall enough to accommodate the added height. It looked like he was carrying something in his arms._

_As the king disappeared into the room, and the brothers moved to catch up to him, a voice coming from within the room made them pause._

_"I trust no one bothered you on your way here?“_

_A pause._

_"Good. They remember the procedures for this…situation.”_

_The camera turned slowly back to the older brother. “ISN’T THAT DAD?”_

_"shh!“ The older brother held a finger in front of his teeth. "he’s talking with the king!”_

_A silent look was exchanged, and the brothers crept up to the door, not needing to push it open for it was still ajar. The brothers stopped there, the camera peering in through the crack no doubt like the brothers were doing._

_"…You don’t normally stay this long,“ Dr. Gaster’s voice observed, his lab coat-clad figure spotted near machinery of unknown purposes. "You’ve seen how this works, Your Majesty; nothing has changed.”_

_The big, burly figure of the king stood behind the doctor, on the other side of what looked to be an examination table. On top of the examination table, something covered in a white sheet rested._

_"…Unless.“ The doctor turned around to face the king. "Something_ has  _changed?”_

_Even if his back was not turned toward the camera, the angle at which the camera captured the medically clean room made it impossible to see the faces of either of the tall monsters. What it did capture was how the bigger and burlier of the two seemed to be shaking._

_"…They did not fight back.“ The king’s voice was small; abnormal compared to the great presence he exuded. "Neither did they try to reason with me. They just…_ stood _there. They stood there, and let me…let…me…”_

_It could no longer be denied that the king was trembling. Dr. Gaster was a statue by comparison._

_"…I think it would be wise for you to leave now, Your Majesty.“_

_The doctor’s voice was low and emotionless. The king was still trembling. He swiftly turned and-_

CRASH!

_-in carelessness, ran into and knocked the examination table over. It landed on its side, and sent the blanket-clad object rolling toward the door._

_Splotches of red could be seen staining the underside of the sheet._

_Part of the object became uncovered as the rolling stopped._

_An eye, glassy and empty and unblinking, stared straight into the camera._

_The king’s breathing had become shallow and shaky. With slow, lumbering steps, his trembling figure could be seen walking around the knocked-over table, toward the door. He stopped just short of it, and a big, furry, violently trembling hand reached for the blanketed mass-_

_"Asgore,_ don’t _.”_

_Dr. Gaster had moved swiftly. His smaller, holey-er, steadier hand took the king’s arm and pulled him upright. “Don’t do this to yourself. You’ve done your part, now let me do mine. Whatever you need to do to recover, you need to do that. I will take care of the rest. Go.”_

_The king’s breathing remained shallow and shaky. It almost sounded like he was about to start crying. The camera watched as he pulled his hand up to where his face presumably was, turn, and stumble away, out of an unseen doorway._

_The doctor was left alone with the sheet-covered object. He walked around to its front, his back to the door, and bent down. Even though he was closer to the camera, it still could not see anything up past his shoulders. He sat there for a long time._

_Breathing in through his nose holes and out through his teeth, Dr. Gaster pushed the eyelid shut over the glassy, empty eye, recovered it with the sheet, and scooped the blanketed mass into his arms. He stood, and as he did the examination table was righted, cloaked in a faint blue flame that soon dissipated. He laid the mass gently, carefully across the metallic, smooth surface. Leather straps attached to the tables sides he then laid across the mass, then buckled on the other side; loose restraints, but restraints nonetheless. He held one hand hovering over an area near the center of the mass, then laid it there. He took a deep breath…_

_And with one swift, careful movement, his hand became swathed in blue flames, and he jerked it back upwards._

_His hand did not come up alone. Beneath it, a heart colored the same hue as his flames hovered in the air. The mass beneath it lurched upwards - stopped only by the restraints - when the doctor’s hand shot up, then settled as the heart materialized. The mass seemed even stiller and more limp now than before the 'heart’ appeared._

_"…That was significantly easier than the others.“_

_After this off-hand comment, the doctor’s other hand reached out, his magic guiding a glass jar full of some kind of clear liquid to him. The one hand magically guided the 'heart’ even higher, and the other guided the jar between it and the still, blanketed mass. The 'heart’ was then lowered into the vat of unknown chemicals and released from the magic’s hold. It turned deep green._

_"And then there were five,” remarked Dr. Gaster as he began to tighten a lid to the-_

Clunk.

_The camera finally finished slipping completely out of its handler’s grasp and clattered to the floor. It just barely recorded the sight of Dr. Gaster whipping around to the noise it made before the recording stopped, because of the angle at which it landed._

\----

There was no time to react or comment as the tape continued, showing a different time, a different place, the only break being half a second of the screen turning blue.

\----

_The camera focused on what looked to be a child’s bedroom, then when dark, then focused on the room, then went dark. The accompanying noise suggested the lense cap was being taken off then put back on over and over again._

_"…DO YOU THINK HE’S MAD AT US?“_

_The voice sounded despondent and small. It came from behind the camera. The lens cap stayed off long enough for the camera to focus on the young skeleton sitting by a computer table across the room. He looked as small and despondent as his brother’s voice did._

_”…not sure, pap,“ the older brother soon answered, his voice numb and his pupils staring holes into the carpet. "i’ve never seen him get like that before…”_

_"WHAT…WHAT DO YOU THINK HE WAS DOING? WITH THAT…THAT…“_

_The camera shuddered slightly. Across the room, the older brother’s shoulders sank. "i…i don’t know…”_

_A door was heard opening in the distance, then closing shut. The older brother shot up straight, and the camera stopped shaking. Both were stock still as the creaking of stairs soon followed, and footsteps passed by. Another door in the distance was open then shut, and the footsteps grew closer. One more door was opened-_

_The camera was swiftly tossed to one side, landing on the mattress and focusing on a blank wall beside a bookcase. The creak of the mattress followed by the creak of wood suggested the camera’s handler jumping off the bed and rushing for the opened door. “DAD WHAT WERE YOU DOING WITH THE KING? WHO WAS THAT-THAT PERSON HE LEFT WITH YOU? WHAT WAS WRONG WITH THEM? WHY WEREN’T THEY MOVING OR- O-OR BREATHING? WHAT DID…WHAT DID YOU DO TO-?”_

_Something made the younger brother’s hounding cease. A loaded silence followed, ended by another creaking of the mattress springs. Softer this time, like someone was patting the bed in invitation. There were more footsteps; someone came back to the camera, picked it up, and put it on a table beside the bed, to clear space._

_The camera faced the bed as the two brothers sat down, side by side, staring up at the tall figure standing before them. Though the doctor did not move, the squeak of the computer chair’s wheels crescendo-ed as it was perceived that his magic was bringing it to him. The doctor grabbed it, wheeled it around…and unceremoniously sat down in it. Backwards._

_The brothers eyed each other, confused, as the doctor slumped forward against the chair’s back. A weary sigh left him, one hand running across his crown as the other arm laid across the top of the chair. He looked tired, weathered, like he wanted to be anywhere else but there._

_"d…dad?“ the older brother ventured._

_"What do the two of you know of the war?”_

_The brothers looked stunned, caught off guard by the seemingly unrelated question. The doctor waited silently._

_"OUR…OUR CLASS TOOK A FIELD TRIP TO WATERFALL ONCE,“ the younger brother eventually answered. He then crawled across the mattress to one end of the bed, reached over it, and pulled up a backpack. He crawled back to his spot and began digging through his pack. "OUR ASSIGNMENT WAS TO TRANSLATE THE ANCIENT GLYPHS ON THE WALLS THERE. OUR TEACHER GAVE US A DECIPHERING SHEET TO HELP US…”_

_Eventually, he produced a notebook with a sheet sticking out of it. Using this bookmark, he opened the book and began to read aloud his translations:_

_"'THE WAR OF HUMANS AND MONSTERS. WHY DID THE HUMANS ATTACK? INDEED, IT SEEMED THAT THEY HAD NOTHING TO FEAR. HUMANS ARE UNBELIEVABLY STRONG. IT WOULD TAKE THE SOUL OF NEARLY EVERY MONSTER JUST TO EQUAL THE POWER OF A SINGLE HUMAN SOUL. BUT HUMANS HAVE ONE WEAKNESS. IRONICALLY, IT IS THE STRENGTH OF THEIR SOUL. ITS POWER ALLOWS IT TO PERSIST OUTSIDE THE HUMAN BODY, EVEN AFTER DEATH. IF A MONSTER DEFEATS A HUMAN, THEY CAN TAKE ITS SOUL. A MONSTER WITH A HUMAN SOUL…A HORRIBLE BEAST WITH UNFATHOMABLE POWER.’“_

_The younger brother paused, a shudder running down his spine. "THEN THERE WAS A MURAL…SOME OF THE CLASS COPIED IT ONTO THEIR PAPERS, BUT I DIDN’T WANT TO. THAT…_ CREATURE _WAS REALLY SCARY…”_

_The older brother reached his arm around the younger’s shoulders and hugged them. Dr. Gaster nodded in sympathy and as a sign to proceed._

_The younger brother cleared his throat before continuing, “'THE POWER TO TAKE THEIR SOULS. THIS IS THE POWER THAT THE HUMANS FEARED. THIS POWER HAS NO COUNTER. INDEED, A HUMAN CANNOT TAKE A MONSTER’S SOUL. WHEN A MONSTER DIES, ITS SOUL DISAPPEARS. AND AN INCREDIBLE POWER WOULD BE NEEDED TO TAKE THE SOUL OF A LIVING MONSTER. THERE IS ONLY ONE EXCEPTION. THE SOUL OF A SPECIAL SPECIES OF MONSTER CALLED A "BOSS MONSTER”. A BOSS MONSTER’S SOUL IS STRONG ENOUGH TO PERSIST AFTER DEATH, IF ONLY FOR A FEW MOMENTS. A HUMAN COULD ABSORB THIS SOUL. BUT THIS HAS NEVER HAPPENED. AND NOW IT NEVER WILL.’“_

_The young skeleton paused again, looking for a sign to stop or continue. He took the doctor’s lack of a response, verbal or otherwise, as a sign to keep going._

_”'THE HUMANS, AFRAID OF OUR POWER, DECLARED WAR ON US. THEY ATTACKED SUDDENLY, AND WITHOUT MERCY. IN THE END, IT COULD HARDLY BE CALLED A WAR. UNITED, THE HUMANS WERE TOO POWERFUL, AND US MONSTERS, TOO WEAK. NOT A SINGLE SOUL WAS TAKEN, AND COUNTLESS MONSTERS WERE TURNED TO DUST…’“ The younger brother gulped heavily before resuming. ”'HURT, BEATEN, AND FEARFUL FOR OUR LIVES, WE SURRENDERED TO THE HUMANS. SEVEN OF THEIR GREATEST MAGICIANS SEALED US UNDERGROUND WITH A MAGIC SPELL. ANYTHING CAN ENTER THROUGH THE SEAL, BUT ONLY BEINGS WITH A POWERFUL SOUL CAN LEAVE. THERE IS ONLY ONE WAY TO REVERSE THIS SPELL. IF A HUGE POWER, EQUIVALENT TO SEVEN HUMAN SOULS, ATTACKS THE BARRIER, IT WILL BE DESTROYED. BUT THIS CURSED PLACE HAS NO ENTRANCES OR EXITS. THERE IS NO WAY A HUMAN COULD COME HERE. WE WILL REMAIN TRAPPED DOWN HERE FOREVER…’“_

_The younger brother said nothing more. Dr. Gaster perked up, and stared through the young one. ”…I thought there was one more inscription after that one.“_

_"there is,” the older brother confirmed. “it was some prophecy about 'the angel’, right, pap?”_

_The younger brother nodded. “Why did you stop, then?” Dr. Gaster questioned._

_"BECAUSE I AM FAILING TO SEE WHAT THIS HAS TO DO WITH WHAT YOU WERE DOING WITH THE KING!“ the younger brother snapped, sockets full of hurt and tears. "AND WHY IT WAS SO IMPORTANT THAT YOU WENT BACK ON YOUR WORD AND MISSED THE SCIENCE FAIR!”_

_The doctor blinked heavily. “…That was today?” A moment of searching, and realization dawned on the doctor’s face. “Oh, god. It was. Sans I am so sorry-”_

_"it’s_ fine _,“ the older brother interjected, his voice tight and the look on his face like he was holding back tears. "i just…would really appreciate it if you told us already what you were doin’ with the king back in the lab.”_

_"AND WHAT IT HAS TO DO WITH OUR HISTORY ASSIGNMENT ABOUT THE WAR!“ demanded the younger brother._

_The doctor looked between the brothers, then sighed once again. "It has…everything to do with our history, and the war.”_

_Two equally confused 'Huh?’s came from the brothers._

_"There is more to the story than those inscriptions reveal. Most significantly, the fact is that the penultimate inscription, the one that said this cursed place has no exits or entrances…has been debunked.“_

_Two pairs of sockets widened. Dr. Gaster straightened himself, his gaze focusing on the wall as he recounted the tale:_

_"A long time ago, a human fell into the Ruins. Injured by its fall, the human called out for help. Asriel, the King’s son, heard the human’s call. He brought the human back to the castle. Over time, Asriel and the human became like siblings. The King and Queen treated the child as their own. The underground was full of hope.”_

_The brothers were hanging on to every word of the tale. At this point, Dr. Gaster’s face began to fall._

_"Then…one day…the human became very ill. The sick human had only one request: to see the flowers from their village. But there was nothing we could do. The next day…“_

_”…the next day?“ the older brother hesitantly encouraged._

_”…“ Dr. Gaster’s eyes closed, his head lowering forlornly. "The human died.”_

_The brothers’ faces fell instantly. They no longer looked that interested in listening anymore._

_But the tale continued. “Asriel, wracked with grief, absorbed the human’s soul. He transformed into a being with incredible power. With the human soul, Asriel crossed through the barrier. He carried the human’s body into the sunset, back to the village of the humans. Asriel reached the center of the village. There, he found a bed of golden flowers; he carried the human onto it._

_"Suddenly, screams rang out. The villagers saw Asriel holding the human’s body; they thought that he had killed the child. The humans attacked him with everything they had. He was struck with blow after blow. Asriel had the power to destroy them all. But…Asriel did not fight back. Clutching the human, Asriel smiled, and walked away._

_"Wounded, Asriel stumbled home. He entered the castle and collapsed. His dust spread across the garden. The kingdom fell into despair. The King and Queen had lost two children in one night. The humans had once again taken everything from us…”_

_Both brothers were uncomfortably fidgeting in their seats. Even Dr. Gaster’s calm composure started to waver during that last stanza._

_Thankfully, the tale concluded. “The King decided it was time to end our suffering. Every human who falls down here must die. With enough souls, we can shatter the barrier forever.” Dr. Gaster breathed in deeply, opened his eyes back up, and looked to the brothers. “With this in mind, what can you infer from my most recent meeting with the King?”_

_The brothers were silent, contemplation wrinkling their young faces. After a while, horror dawned on the older, who guessed, “that person, wrapped up in the sheet…that was a human, wasn’t it?”_

_Dr. Gaster stared past the two boys. “Yes. That was a human.”_

_"…THEY WERE DEAD, WEREN’T THEY?“ the younger brother wondered softly._

_The doctor once again looked weathered and weary. ”…Yes. They were dead.“_

_"the king killed them.” It did not sound like a question._

_"…He did.“_

_"AND…A-AND THAT THING THAT-THAT 'HEART’ YOU PULLED OUT OF THEM…I-IT…IT WAS…”_

_"It was their soul. I took their soul out of their body.“_

_Silence followed the doctor’s confirmations. None of the trio of skeletons looked at one another, nor did they make the attempt to._

_”…why you?“_

_"Because of how my magic works,” the doctor explained. “You see, the King feared that he would accidentally absorb the soul if he attempted to retrieve it himself, but my magic allows me to extract the soul without instant absorption becoming a risk-”_

_"no, i mean, why_ you _? why are you so involved in this?“_

_The doctor fell quiet._

_"this is all the king’s plan, isn’t it?” the older brother continued, his would be brows furrowing in anger. “then why is he making you do half of the dirty work? you’re the royal scientist, not-not th-the royal executioner!”_

_The doctor remained quiet._

_"unless…“ His eyes narrowed in suspicion, which turned into more anger. "unless you_ wanted _to do this! i’m right, aren’t i!? you like ripping the souls out of people’s cold, dead-”_

_"I do_ not _enjoy it!“_

_The older brother flinched back, his anger fleeing. His reaction suggested that this had been the first time the doctor had ever raised his voice at him._

_Dr. Gaster, the lights of his eyes gone, grimaced and closed them, one hand reaching up to pinch the bone between his closed sockets. ”…Yes, I am thoroughly involved in this sordid affair. But not strictly because of my position as the Royal Scientist. As Royal Scientist, my only involvement was in the creation of containers for the souls; that jar you saw me put the one into. As for the extraction process, Asgore did not coerce me into aiding him. I_ volunteered _. It had nothing to do with the fact that I am the Royal Scientist.“_

_Dr. Gaster inhaled deeply, his breath shuddering on the exhale. "Think what you will about me, but do not think, for one second, that I_ enjoy _the part I play in all this. Asgore doesn’t, either, even though he has every reason to want to make the humans suffer. Even though_ I _have every reason to hate the humans, too! They took the love of my life away from me-!”_

_The doctor’s voice cracked, and he choked on a sob. Distress and sorrow washed over the older brother’s face; seemed this, too, was a first for him._

_"…THEN WHY ARE YOU STILL DOING THIS?“_

_Two skulls turned toward the younger brother, who was looking down at his hands, which he was rubbing in his lap. "THE…THE HUMANS HAVE WRONGED YOU; YOU AND THE KING AND-AND ALL THE OTHER MONSTERS. BUT IT IS QUITE OBVIOUS THAT WHAT YOU HAVE BEEN DOING HAS NOT MADE YOU FEEL ANY BETTER ABOUT WHAT YOU HAVE SUFFERED THROUGH! SO WHY?” He looked up at the doctor, his jaw wobbling and tears streaking down his cheekbones. “WHY DO YOU CONTINUE HELPING THE KING KILL THE HUMANS!?”_

_Father and son stared at each other, the other boy looking between the two, until the doctor let out a sad, bitter chuckle. “You have no idea how many times I’ve asked myself that same question over the years, Papyrus…”_

_The doctor sighed, and ran his hand down his face. His gaze wandered, avoiding the piercing, questioning ones coming from the two brothers. Amid his weariness, he looked thoughtful._

_"…The answer I have come to is multi-faceted. When my involvement first began, my only reasoning was that, by giving my assistance, I would ease the King’s burden, if only by a fraction. He needs to keep up appearances for his people, to keep them from falling into despair all over again. He wears a heavy crown; I thought to make it less heavy. When I started to lose heart, and my faith in that reason, the thought that this could actually all work out in the end, that I would one day return to the surface…that kept me going, too. And the thought of you two coming to the surface with me…“_

_The doctor turned and smiled at the two brothers. It was a kindly smile, but there was a definite sadness in it. "I have done things I’m not proud of, so that you, my sons, have the chance for a brighter future. I’m sorry you had to find out this way. And…I completely understand if you cannot find it within yourselves to forgive me.”_

_At first, nothing. Then, after sharing a look, both boys rose from the bed and hugged the doctor; the younger first, then the older. The doctor, stunned for a moment, shook as he returned the hugs, his head between theirs and his hands on the back of their skulls. At least one of them started quietly crying._

_"…DOES THE KING REALLY HAVE TO KILL THE HUMANS THAT FALL DOWN, THOUGH?“ the younger brother eventually asked, pulling away to look up at the doctor._

_"yeah, i mean,” his brother agreed, also pulling away to look up, “what’s wrong with waitin’ for the humans to die naturally, then taking their souls then? and if he’s already got one soul, what was stopping him from getting through the barrier, getting six more souls, then destroying the barrier then? or-or-?”_

_Dr. Gaster’s soft chuckling stopped the young boy’s rambling. He brought a hand to his face as his laughter grew more intense, the hand moving across his face in a surreptitiously eye-drying motion. “Ah, oh, you two are very wise to think up such compelling arguments, my sons. Looks some of my genius_ did _rub off on you.”_

_The brothers cracked silly grins at each other as the doctor finished taking care of his face. When he looked back to them, it fell ever so slightly. “Sadly, I don’t think the King will be open to listening to them.”_

_The brothers’ grins fell. “WHY NOT?” demanded the younger brother._

_"Because I think he’s already thought of it.“ When confusion entered the brothers’ expression, the doctor elaborated. "It’s hard, sometimes, to tell what’s going on between those big, floppy ears of his, but I believe he’s convinced himself that he’s gone too far down this path to stray even an inch from it. In his mind, I think, he thinks the only way the monsters will go free is through more death and bloodshed.”_

_"…that’s dumb,“ remarked the older brother bluntly. "if someone decided to do something, then realized halfway through that they don’t want to do that anymore, or that they shouldn’t do it anymore, they should have the choice to stop doing that thing and try and find a better way!”_

_Dr. Gaster chuckled and rubbed the older brother’s head. “A very insightful observation, Sans.” He looked off, and added under his breath, “If only it were that simple…”_

_"BUT IT IS THAT SIMPLE!“ the younger brother protested. "THE KING JUST NEEDS TO BE REMINDED THAT THERE’S A BETTER WAY! YOU SHOULD TALK WITH HIM, DAD! GET HIM TO SEE REASON!”_

_The doctor 'hmm'ed softly, and rubbed the younger brother’s head. “Trust me; I’ve thought about doing that, just as I have never fully approved of this plan of his right from the start. But, boys…it is not my place to challenge the King. At least, not unless I present him with an alternative that does not involve the deaths of more humans.”_

_Silence returned as each of the skeletons turned thoughtful. The youngest crossed his arms over his chest and his would be brow furrowed. The shortest held his elbow in one hand and rested his teeth against the knuckles of the other. The oldest and tallest laid his arms on top of the chair’s back and stared holes into the wall._

_"…if only the war never happened.“_

_Dr. Gaster’s head perked up. "What?”_

_"YEAH!“ the younger brother agreed, his face smoothing over and his arms uncrossing. "IF THE WAR NEVER HAPPENED, THEN THE MONSTERS WOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN FORCED UNDERGROUND! AND IF THE MONSTERS WERE NEVER FORCED UNDERGROUND, THERE WOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN A BARRIER TO KEEP US THERE! AND IF THERE WAS NEVER A BARRIER, THEN THERE WOULD BE NO NEED FOR THE KING TO COLLECT HUMAN SOULS!”_

_The younger brother planted his fists on his pelvis and puffed out his chest. “A BRILLIANT PLAN! GLAD I THOUGHT OF IT! NYEH HEH HEH!”_

_"sure is a great plan, pap,“ his brother said with a wink. "now all we gotta do is figure out time travel.”_

_"THAT WILL NOT BE A PROBLEM, BROTHER!“ the younger skeleton said in confidence. "THEY DO NOT CALL OUR DAD THE SMARTEST MONSTER IN THE UNDERGROUND FOR NOTHING! I’M SURE HE…CAN…”_

_The younger brother noticed it first, then the older. When he did, he waved a hand in front of the doctor’s face. “uh…dad? you in there?”_

_By all appearances, Dr. Gaster had gone catatonic. His eyes had gone wide, his jaw had gone slack, and out of it came tumbling senseless mutters. “War…time travel…barrier…never happened…!”_

_"DAD?“_

_Without warning, the doctor shot to his feet, nearly headbutting his sons during his ascent._

_"THAT’S IT!!!” he shouted as he scrambled to the door. The fact that he was getting tangled up in and tripping over his chair did not slow him down. The clamor he raised as he ran out followed him even after he left the room, down the stairs (judging by the sounds, either he or the chair was free-falling down them), and out the front door. There was no sound to indicate that he had shut it behind him._

_"…welp.“ The older skeleton looked to his brother, managing a smile despite the absurdity of the situation. "looks like we won’t be seein’ him for a while.”_

_And the tape finally ran out of recording space._

\----

"…A-Are you sure you’re feeling alright, Papyrus?“

Again, many looked back to the tall skeleton.

"O…O-OF COURSE I AM!” answered Papyrus, trying yet failing to sound like his natural, boisterous self. “I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS! I AM ALWAYS FEELING ALRIGHT! WHY WOULD YOU THINK OTHERWISE?”

"…Papyrus…“ Toriel reached out and gently touched his shoulder. ”…You are crying.“

Papyrus stared at Toriel blankly, then swiped a gloved hand across his cheekbone. He pulled his arm away and looked down, finding that spots on the fabric had become a darker red than others.

”…SO I AM!“ There was forced brightness in his voice as the tears started flowing more freely. "AND I AM CRYING EVEN HARDER NOW! HA HA! WH-WHEN DID…THAT S-START, I W-W-WONDER…?”

His mouth was a broken smile. His arms were shaking enough to make a loud rattle.

"Alright, that’s it.“ Undyne slammed her hands on her knees and moved to stand up. "Binge-watching all these in one sitting was a bad idea. Babe, how many are left?”

"T…t-two,“ Alphys squeaked. "O-Only two more.”

"Two, huh?“ Undyne, nodding in satisfaction, reached to take Papyrus’ arm. "Okay, we’ll watch those later, but right now Papyrus needs a break-”

Suddenly, Undyne was back on the floor. It was if she had never moved at all.

She was not very happy about this. “What the f-”

"we can handle two more tapes, right, pap?“

Enraged would not even begin to describe the looks on most everyone’s faces as they glared at the other skeleton on the bed.

"Try that shit with me again, you lazy bastard,” Undyne snarled as she pushed up the sleeves of her jacket. “I’ll kick your bony ass so hard you’ll be the first skeleton on the moon!”

"Sans, enough is enough.“ Toriel spoke sternly and sharply, her frown not holding one ounce of sympathy for the person she berated. "Your brother is a grown monster capable of making his own decisions; stop answering for him.”

"We should have paced ourselves better in watching these recordings,“ Asgore piped up, agreeing with Undyne’s previous statement. "We can watch the remainder at a later time.  _After_  we have all calmed down and reconciled the information they’ve given us thus far.”

As a small, pale hand reached out to touch Sans’ arm, he threw both of them into the air; it was unclear whether or not he was even aware of the gesture that was trying to be made.

"fine then. whatever floats your boat. but i thought we were watching these for a reason. or have you all forgotten who we’ve been doin’ all this for?“

That sure made everyone freeze up. Slowly, many eyes turned to stare at Toriel’s lap. The small, pale hand was slowly pulled away.

”…No.“ Still sounding stern and sharp, Toriel cast a sideways glare to her left. "Have  _you_?”

Sans lowered his arms back down, and said no more.

"…PLAY THE NEXT TAPE.“

Papyrus had brought his legs up to his chest. His arms were hugging his femurs, his teeth against his knee caps. Though tear still glistened on his skull, his expression was set and resolute.

The atmosphere had become charged with tension. Alphys fumbled greatly to get the second to last tape, number fifteen, into the player.

\----

_The camera was focused on a skeleton, short in stature, wearing a crisp new lab coat._

_"TODAY IS THE DAY!” happily proclaimed a voice coming from behind the camera. “YOUR FIRST DAY WORKING WITH FATHER AT THE LABS!”_

_"yeah,“ the older brother agreed, his fingers idly fiddling with the collar and sleeves of the coat. "sure is…”_

_Behind the camera, the younger brother huffed indignantly and reached a hand out. “STOP MESSING WITH IT!” he scolded, lightly slapping his brother’s wrist. “I SPENT ALL NIGHT PRESSING IT FOR YOU SO YOU COULD LOOK YOUR BEST ON YOUR FIRST DAY! I AM WELL AWARE THAT LAB COATS ARE A CLOTHING ARTICLE THAT ARE MEANT TO BECOME DIRTY OR OTHERWISE DAMAGED, BUT UNTIL YOU PARTICIPATE IN SUCH ACTIVITIES THAT WILL SOIL THE GARMENT, YOU ARE TO KEEP IT AS CLEAN AND TIDY AS POSSIBLE! AM I CLEAR?”_

_"sure thing, bro.“ The older brother dropped his arms to his sides. "sure thing…”_

_The older brother had been looking both jazzed and dazed since the camera started rolling. Now, a certain somberness was slipping into his expression._

_His brother picked up on this. “WHAT IS THE MATTER, BROTHER?”_

_The short skeleton shrugged and ran a hand over his cranium. “guess i’m just nervous, is all.”_

_To that, the taller skeleton let out a good-natured laugh and clapped his brother’s shoulder. “NYEH HEH! WHAT REASON DO YOU HAVE TO BE NERVOUS, BROTHER? THOUGH YOUR BOSS IS OUR FATHER, NEPOTISM HAS HAD NO PLAY IN YOUR ACCEPTANCE TO THIS JOB! YOU ARE A VERY SMART PERSON! YOU WERE ACCEPTED TO THIS JOB BECAUSE YOUR INTELLECT WAS RECOGNIZED! BY THE KING HIMSELF, NO LESS! I’M SURE YOU’D FIT RIGHT IN WITH ALL THE OTHER BRAINIACS FATHER WORKS WITH! AND I AM POSITIVE HE WILL NOT TREAT YOU ANY DIFFERENTLY BECAUSE YOU ARE HIS SON-”_

_"no, i know that,“ the shorter skeleton interjected. "that’s not what i’ve been nervous about. not really, at least.”_

_"THEN WHAT IS MAKING YOU SO ANXIOUS, SANS?“_

_The short skeleton shrugged again. The action looked helpless. "i guess…i’m nervous about seeing him again. after all these years…”_

_There was a pause, in which the camera lowered. The angle at which it was pointed and the way it seemed to dangle suggested that it was being held down at the younger brother’s side._

_"…WE…WE HAVE NOT SEEN HIM RECENTLY, HAVE WE?“ the younger brother realized._

_"not since giftmas, i think,” the older agreed. “from, like, five years ago.”_

_"I REMEMBER HIM SENDING US A LETTER,“ the younger brother recalled. "SAYING THAT HE WOULD BE WORKING NIGHT AND DAY ON A NEW PROJECT. AND THAT HE WOULD NOT BE COMING HOME FOR, AND I QUOTE, 'A WHILE’.”_

_"and you’ve been writing him one every single day since then, haven’t you, pap? even when he stopped replyin’ to 'em a few years back, you’ve still been writing him letters and making care packages and sending him videos of stuff he’s been missing at home, with us…“_

_Another pause._

_”…he wasn’t even the one to tell me i got the job. i found out through some generic letter the king drafted up. heh, i’m glad and all that i didn’t land this job 'cuz of the fact the royal scientist’s my dad, but…part of me wishes it played_ some _part, y'know?“_

_Another pause._

_”….MAYBE IT HAS!“_

_The camera was lifted back up to its original position. It caught the older brother looking up in curiosity as the younger theorized, "PERHAPS THIS IS ALL JUST A PLOY! FATHER IS JUST MAKING YOU THINK HE’S NOT EXCITED FOR YOU TO BE JOINING HIM SO THAT HE CAN SURPRISE YOU WITH A SURPRISE WELCOMING PARTY! OR SOMETHING!”_

_"yeah…!“ The older brother’s face lit up, hope in his eyes. "yeah, maybe he is! heh, why didn’t i think of that?”_

_"NYEH! THAT IS BECAUSE YOU ARE SMART IN YOUR WAYS, AND I AM SMART IN MINE! COME, BROTHER!“ The camera made a 90 degree turn, facing a pair of metallic double doors. "LET US GET YOU CHECKED IN WITH ‘DR. GASTER’ IN THE MOST UNEVENTFUL WAY POSSIBLE!!”_

_The brothers snickered among themselves as the camera was carried through the double doors (they opened automatically with a mechanical swish) and down several twisting, winding corridors. The snickering did not cease until the camera paused in front of another door, then turned to the slyly grinning face of the older brother. “READY,_ DOCTOR _GASTER?” asked the younger with ill-maintained excitement, managing to sound at least two decibel points softer than normal._

_The older brother answered with a wink, and the camera turned back toward the door, which was then thrown open with a loud_ BANG _. “doctor sans gaster, reporting for duty!”_

_"W-wuh-GYAAH!“_ CRA-A-A-ASH!

_"OH MY GOD ARE YOU ALRIGHT!?”_

_Severe jostling of the camera after the door was thrown open made it hard for it to capture the events that cascaded afterwards. It only became steady when it was hastily placed on some unknown flat surface that faced toward the desk the two brothers raced around the other side of, to help the monster that had fallen back to his feet._

_"YOU SHOULD NOT SLEEP AT YOUR DESK, FATHER!“ the younger brother scolded. "THAT IS VERY BAD FOR YOUR POSTURE!”_

_"you okay, dad?“ the older asked, sounding a little more sympathetic than his brother. "didn’t get another crack in your noggin, didja?”_

_The brothers had to keep their grips on Dr. Gaster’s arms, even though he was upright again. He swayed where he stood, lost in a daze brought on by the sudden awakening. And judging by how dark the circles under his sockets were, the last thing he needed was to be denied any further sleep._

_Eventually, he became steady enough not to have his sons hold him up by the arms anymore. He blinked heavily, then took in both of their faces slowly. For a while, he looked like he had no clue who he was looking at._

_"…Sans?“ Finally, recognition surfaced. "Papyrus…?”_

_The brothers shot a quick look at each other before the younger answered, trying to sound casual, “YES, FATHER. IT IS US. SANS AND PAPYRUS. YOUR SONS. RIGHT HERE. IN FRONT OF YOU.”_

_Dr. Gaster looked over them again, still looking soporific and slow on the update. “…You’re taller,” was the next thing to leave his mouth._

_The camera caught the older brother’s tiny wince at the doctor’s blunt observation. “well, yeah. i mean, not so much for me in my case, but look at that, pap. you’re as tall as dad now.”_

_The doctor looked back at his youngest, finding that his line of sight level with his. “Indeed…” He still looked like he still wasn’t entirely there. Consciously speaking._

_His youngest, on the other hand, looked prideful. “NYEH! THAT IS BECAUSE I HAVE BEEN DRINKING MY MILK LIKE A GOOD SKELETON ALL THESE YEARS! AND I HAVE ALSO BEEN KEEPING A GOOD FITNESS REGIMEN! WHICH WILL COME IN HANDY WHEN I BECOME A MEMBER OF THE ROYAL GUARD!”_

_The doctor blinked again, and looked a little more woken-up. “You want to join the Royal Guard?”_

_The brothers froze._

_"…you knew that.“ Suspicion crept into the older brother’s expression. "pap sent you a letter telling you all about it. didn’t you get it?”_

_Dr. Gaster opened his mouth, then closed it shut with a clack. The whites of his eyes shifted all over the place, but avoided the faces of the brothers. He looked uncomfortable._

_Suddenly, the younger brother looked like he was struck with an epiphany. “I KNOW WHAT HAPPENED!” he proclaimed, and swept an arm out to gesture to the room around them. “YOU MUST HAVE RECEIVED THE LETTER, BUT BEFORE YOU WERE ABLE TO READ IT, IT GOT LOST IN THIS MESS!”_

_The doctor blinked again, and made a vague gesture of confirmation. The older brother still looked suspicious._

_"AND BY GOD, WHAT A MESS THIS PLACE IS!“ The younger brother huffed in disapproval at the slovenly state of the room. "AND I THOUGHT SANS’ ROOM WAS BAD; HIS ROOM IS AS CLEAN AS MINE COMPARED TO THIS PIG STY! NO WONDER YOU SLIPPED WHEN WE WOKE YOU UP; I CAN’T EVEN SEE THIS TABLE’S SURFACE! DO NOT WORRY, FATHER! THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS QUITE PROFICIENT IN-”_

_"Don’t touch those!“_

_The younger brother immediately dropped the folders he had started gathering off the paper-shewn table. Dr. Gaster caught them, a frantic gleam chasing out the tiredness in his eyes as he looked through them, surveyed the rest of the documents and print-outs on the table, ducked down to retrieve the flurries that had been sent flying after his awakening. Unintelligible mutterings came from him as he worked to recreate the table’s spread._

_He stopped after a minute of making arrangements, hands hovering over the spread and his eyes searching. The following satisfaction he expressed came and left quickly. Frowning deeply, he closed his eyes and rested loosely-formed fists against the center of the papers._

_”…I thought I made it clear the two of you were not to return to the labs without my permission.“ He spoke in ill-contained annoyance, remaining hunched over his papers as he demanded, "What are you doing here, boys?”_

_The younger brother had still not recovered from the doctor snapping at him. So his brother, treading carefully, answered, “pap just came to see me off to work.”_

_Silence as his words were considered. The doctor opened his eyes and leered at the short skeleton, a would be brow raised in skepticism. “…You have a job?”_

_The corner of the older brother’s mouth twitched. “yeah. here.” He reached for the right front side of his lab coat, to show off the badge clipped to the lapel pocket. “with_ you _.”_

_The doctor eyed the badge. At first, languidly, then curiously, then studiously, then in alarm. He shot up straight, eye sockets wide as they could go. “When did this happen?!”_

_"…i start today.“ The older brother’s sockets narrowed, displeasure and suspicion unabashedly obvious on his face. "you should_ know _this.”_

_The white pupils of Dr. Gaster’s eyes looked back and forth between his oldest son’s face and the badge on his coat. The three skeletons were very quiet._

_Without warning, Dr. Gaster clapped his hands together. “Yes! Of course! Ahem, well! Today is your first day, eh? That means you need to go through orientation!” Turning, he walked around the table and off in the direction of the door. “And there is so much you need to be caught up on! First, you need to learn the procedures for when…”_

_The doctor’s voice became softer and softer as he walked further away. Seemingly, he remained unaware that he was not being followed. And he was probably as unaware of the fact that, during his exit, he had pushed his youngest son aside._

_His brother noticed, however. He walked over to the taller skeleton, and had to reach far up to pat him re-assuredly on the back. “some welcoming party, huh?” he said with a little smile, no doubt trying to make light of the situation._

_Before the younger brother could add to the conversation, a distant “Come along, Sans!” silenced him._

_"…you should probably head home before he gets mad again,“ the older brother suggested, giving the younger’s shoulder a squeeze. "i’ll see you tonight; keep some spaghetti warm for me, 'kay?”_

_The younger brother managed a small nod. The older lingered there for a moment before dutifully following after his father. The camera caught his face falling as he turned away from his brother and walked away._

_The youngest skeleton was left alone, stranded in a sea of papers, as the camera’s battery died._

\----

"…No. Nuh-uh. W-We’re done here.“

Papyrus’ skull turned toward Alphys. "N-NO, DON’T-DON’T STOP, DR. ALPHYS,” he pleaded. “I-IT’S FINE, REALLY-”

"No, it’s  _not_ ,“ firmly interjected Undyne, worry lying beneath the sternness on her face. "You’ve been crying non-stop since the last one, and you’re shaking so much the whole bed’s vibrating! I’ve never seen you this freaked out before!”

"I…I’M N-NOT FREAKING OUT!“ But the cracks in his voice betrayed him. "I…I-I’M, I’M…”

He looked down to the floor and held his head in his hands. He looked as though he was trying to calm his quakes, but they were only getting worse.

Toriel placed a firm, gentle paw on his shoulder. “You are upset,” she reasoned softly. “You have had quite a lot of revealing information about your past suddenly thrust upon you, without being given an adequate amount of time to process it all. You are not doing anyone any favors by forcing yourself to continue exposing yourself to these upsetting reveals.”

Papyrus continued holding his head, his tremors only just barely quelling.

Undyne got to her feet and stood in front of the trembling skeleton. Her hands she planted firmly on his shoulders, and she bent down a little so that their heads were level. “To hell with what’s on the last tape,” she said with finality. “To hell with all these tapes! All they’ve done with us is screw with our heads and hearts; yours especially! I say we chuck 'em all into the Hotland lava pits-”

"even though we still don’t have the answers we’ve been told are on them?“

The disbelief and fury sparked by this statement was almost tangible.

”…Use that as an excuse  _one more time_ ,“ Undyne threatened, her eye ablaze and her knuckles cracking, "and forget about being the first skeleton on the moon; you’ll be the first skeleton on the  _sun_!”

"You  _astound_ me, Sans.“ Toriel was seething, the warmth she radiated rising by several degrees in her anger. "Your brother is in clear distress because of these recordings, and still you insist we watch more?”

"there’s only one left, right? seems kinda a waste to just watch 'em all and bail out on the last leg of the race, don’t'cha think?“

Alphys, surprisingly, scoffed. "Th-That sure is a load, coming from you, of all p-people.”

"It was only  _suggested_  that we watch the entirety of these tapes,“ Asgore reminded everyone. "We should stop now, lest we risk further-”

"now  _that_  sure is a load, coming straight from the guy who kept killing kids even though he hated doin’ it.“

The temperature of the room plunged into the negatives. Asgore’s breathing became shallow and constricted, his muscles tense and cold fury lining his expression. It was clear that the entirety of this fury was directed, not to anyone else in the room, but completely inwardly.

To everyone’s surprise, it was Toriel who came to her ex-husband’s defense. "That. Was. Uncalled for.” she hissed, her voice tight and each word punctuated with another rise in the heat surrounding her.

"…play the tape.“

"Here’s a better idea.” Undyne reached for the tapes they’ve already viewed. “I’ll just crush all of them right here and now with my bare-”

"Play. The. God. Damn. Tape.“

It was unclear, really, what it was that made Undyne freeze where she stood. Not only her, but everyone else had become still as stone, too. Maybe it was how slowly Sans had turned to face her. Maybe it was the darkness in his eyes so devoid of all light they were like miniature black holes. Maybe it was the deep, hollow, abnormal voice that seemed to have come from him.

…Maybe it was the still-drying streaks down his cheekbones. Maybe it was the fact that he appeared to be another source of the bed’s shaking.

Whatever the reason, in that one disarming moment, the sounds of tape number fifteen was removed so another could take its place resounded.

As if awakening from a dream, or perhaps a nightmare in this case, several blinked and rounded on Alphys. To see that she was not the guilty party, it did not take too long to catch the culprit red handed. "Papyrus, no-”

 Papyrus, his behavior just as abnormal as his brother’s, ignored the misgivings in Toriel’s voice and everyone else’s stares, placed tape number fifteen on the space beside him, picked up number sixteen, and pushed it into the VCR in his lap.

\----

BANG!

_The camera became buried by a tower of documents and papers, supposedly unsettled and felled by the slamming of a nearby door. One such paper fell over its lens, obscuring its view of the room beyond._

_Though sight was compromised, sound was not. “…The rule is that when the door to my office is closed,” stated an even voice, “I am to remain undisturbed.”_

_"yeah, no, i know the rule, doc,“ a second voice casually replied._

_"Then why have you neglected to uphold it so brazenly, Dr. Sans?” asked the first, patience wearing thin._

_"i just got a quick question for ya,“ the second voice replied. "it concerns the project.”_

_There was a deep sigh, followed by the muffled sound of a pen or pencil being set down. “Very well. What is your question?”_

_"it’s a little thing, really. i was just wondering-“ Suddenly, all pretenses of calm casualness were gone. ”-are you_ fucking _nuts?!“_

_There was a very long and loaded pause._

_”…I had no idea you had such a foul mouth, Doctor,“ the first voice remarked, oddly calm in the face of the second one’s sudden rage._

_"you think so?” bitterly retorted the second voice. “guess you would’ve known that if you just spent some more time getting to see your son grow up instead of coming here to play mad scientist for the past who-the-hell-knows-how-many years.”_

_There was a scrape of a chair; someone was getting up. “So, that’s why you’re here.” The first voice was still alarmingly calm and collected. “You’re angry for my recent absence in your life over the past few years, and have come to chew me out-”_

_"ohhh, no. i’m not here for that. though that definitely doesn’t mean i don’t have words for you on that matter. no, what i’m here for right now is to discuss how, exactly, you’re planning on dealing with that_ great gaping hole  _in the project.“_

_Another pause. ”…Care to elaborate on what you are referring to, Dr. Sans?“_

_”_ gladly _. i am in fact referring to the massive anomaly in the timespace continuum our reports picked up; reports i_ know _you’ve seen, given your neck-deep involvement in every aspect of the project.“_

_”…An anomaly, you say?“_

_"yes, an_ anomaly _. the thing that’s making timelines jump left and right? start and stop? until everything suddenly ends? that ringin’ any bells yet??”_

_A pause; shorter this time. It was ended by a thoughtful chuckle. “It seems you and I have different standards to which we classify something as an 'anomaly’, Dr. Sans.”_

_A frustrated groan. “see, this is exactly why i think you’re out of your gourd, doc! you can’t seriously be thinking it’s a good idea to try and_ harness _that thing!”_

_"And you disapprove?“_

_"of course i disapprove! the project you’re getting everyone hyped up about is making a machine that will punch a literal hole in the timespace continuum so you can interact with something that devours timelines! what sane person_ wouldn’t _disapprove?!”_

_A pause, in which heavy, huffing breaths were heard. Following those, a sigh of disappointment. “It truly pains me to see how small-minded you have become, my son.”_

_A swish of fabric and the tapping of shoes on wood flooring; someone was pacing. “We know for a fact that multiple timelines exist. Every time a choice is offered, a decision made, it creates two or more branches of possibility. Essentially, the timeline splinters every time a decision must be made; take the left path or the right, make dinner or go out to eat.”_

_The pacing slowed; just enough so the buried camera caught an under-the-breath murmur: “…Fight a war, or reach a more peaceful solution…”_

_The pacing picked up again. “A series of decisions and choices made in the past has lead us here, to this 'alpha’ timeline. But what becomes of the offshoot timelines created if different decisions and choices were made? That is where your 'anomaly’ comes in.”_

_The pacing stopped, the first voice closer to the camera than before. “You think this 'anomaly’ is some sort of timeline-devouring entity. By my calculations, it is something of a pocket dimension that exists outside of time and space where the offshoot timelines congregate; a_ place _, not a 'person’. A place that we are going to gain access to with the completion of the machine.”_

_A disbelieving scoff. “again: what sane person would approve of punching open a gateway to some-some_ place _where timelines go to die that will give it an all-access pass to interact with_ this _timeline?!_ our _timeline!?”_

_"Parameters will be put in place to insure the integrity of this timeline and the safety of its inhabitants. That will be crucial when the time comes for us to traverse across the rift to the new timeline-“_

_"whoa whoa whoa hold up. when who goes_ where _now??”_

_A short pause. “You didn’t really think we’re creating an entrance to your 'anomaly’ just to see if we could, did you?”_

_The shuffle of a foot sliding backwards. “y…you mean..!”_

_There was another disappointed sigh before the first voice revealed: “As soon as the machine is fully operational, we’re going to use it to access a different timeline, preferably one in which the barrier never existed, and allocate every monster in the Underground into it.”_

_A long, pregnant pause. It ended when the owner of the second voice started chuckling, which slowly built up into hysterical laughter._

_"heh…eheheheh….hehehehehehehahahahahahahahaaaa i knew it! you_ are _fucking nuts!“_

_The first voice let out a 'hmph’, which was followed by the sound of someone turning on their heel, and walking away. "It is disheartening to hear that you feel that way, but I assure you that my sanity has not been compromised in the slightest. I am not 'fucking nuts’.”_

_"you are if you think it’s a good idea to chuck everyone into your little 'pocket dimension’ which, need i remind you, hasn’t even been discovered before now!“_

_"We’ve gone through the simulations a thousand times. We’ve checked and rechecked the numbers and calculations a thousand times more. Accessing your 'anomaly’ will be perfectly safe, and it will be safer still to traverse through it with the right protective equipment-”_

_"there’s a difference between simulations and the real thing!_ you _taught me that! so there’s no way we can be sure this-this 'time traveling’ will be safe! or that the machine will even work!“_

_The footsteps stopped. A terribly long and tense silence followed._

_”…It. Will. Work.“ Finally, the first voice no longer sounded very calm and collected. It sounded angry and defensive. "And it will work exactly how I said it will.”_

_"it could all blow up in your face!“ The second voice sounded less angry; it was trying to be calm and rational. "forget tempting fate; you’d be dangling a raw piece of meat right in front of its jaws after starving it for weeks if you go through with this!”_

_"Again: you disappoint me, Sans. Were you and your brother not the ones to suggest altering time?“_

_"yeah, when we were_ kids _. kids who didn’t know any better and who couldn’t see how_ dangerous _it is to play god like this! you’re a grown-ass adult; what’s_ your _excuse!?”_

_The first voice was growing less patient. “You are not going to sway me, Dr. Sans, so I would greatly appreciate you ceasing with all these irrational misgivings.”_

_The second was growing more desperate. “'irrational’? you’re the one who’s being irrational here! you have no guarantee that this’ll work!”_

_"It_ is _going to work.“_

_"you could_ kill _everyone!”_

_"I’m going to_ save _everyone!“_

_"by_ abandoning _this timeline!?”_

_"By delivering everyone to a timeline where we never had to fight the war!“_

_Another pause. Then, a plea that belied heartbreak. "doc…_ dad _…do you really hate this timeline that much?”_

_There was no response._

_"look i…i get it, alright? the war was really devastating for us monsters; i may not have been around back then to experience the pain it caused, and frankly, i’m glad i wasn’t. but i know it was really hard on you, and that you want so much for what happened to have never happened at all…“_

_No response._

_"but this plan of yours is-it’s ludicrous! you can’t live with the events that created this timeline so you’re_ running away _to a different one?? imagine if we did that every time we made a decision we ended up regretting! or-or if we decided 'screw it let’s see what would’ve happened if we made this choice instead of the other one’! you think we’d learn anything from-from_ cheating  _the system like this?? is trying to change the past really that much more important than building a future??”_

_No response._

_"what if…what if there’s no place for us in this new timeline? did you ever stop to consider that? what will happen to the generations and generations that were born because we lost the war? what if they can’t exist in the new timeline? …what if_ we _can’t exist?“_

_No response._

_The second voice’s desperation had reached its peak. "this…this timeline can’t be all bad, can it? we’re trapped underground, but at least we’re still alive, right? we have power, we have food and water, we have…each other. i…i-i know you lost someone you really cared about…but you still have us. me an-and papyrus, your_ sons _…you’d really throw away_ everything _you have here on this dangerous chance? including…us?”_

_The lack of an initial response resulted in the most loaded pause yet. In the silence, the faint breathing of a voice constricted with emotion the camera picked up on._

_"…You…small-minded…ignorant…_ ungrateful FOOL _!“_

BANG! _A fist thrown against an unyielding surface caused the paper avalanche the camera was buried under to shift. It was not enough to remove the one covering the camera’s lens._

_"You think I’m going to pick some random timeline willy-nilly?! That the one I choose will be one in which we cannot exist?! There are billions upon billions of potential timelines out there, Sans! The one I will deliver our people to will be one_ exactly _identical to this one. The only difference will be that it will be a timeline in which we were never trapped behind the barrier, in this_ hell _, because it will be a timeline in which the war never broke out in the first place! You talk of condemning generations born post war; I will_ join _those generations with the generations born with no war at all! I will_ save _the lives lost in the war and you will still exist because then you will be born a real monster!!”_

_The words echoed loudly and without interruption. Silence ensued after they finally died out; it was the longest and by far the most crushing yet._

_"……i’m……not……a real monster……?“_

_The second voice was soft and breathless, emotionless and hollow. It wasn’t long before it let out a dark, bitter chuckle. "so. the truth comes out at last.”_

_The first voice sounded small. “…I did not mean-”_

_"no. no, there’s no need to explain yourself, ’_ dad _’.“ Biting sarcasm dripped into the second’s words. "i know_ exactly _what you meant.”_

_The first voice did not respond._

_"i found the tapes. i’ve seen what’s on them. i know how pap and i were created. not born;_ created _._ grown _in test tubes using hacked-up pieces of you and the remains of your dead lover._ i _was just an oversight, while pap was just to see if you could do it again. we’re not 'real’ monsters to you, but just the results of some pretty messed-up science experiment,_ right _?“_

_No response._

_”…what? am i wrong? you wanna tell me my brother and i’re not just some results of your mad-scientist experiments? that you actually created us because you_ wanted _us to exist? that you created us out of the sole desire to have your own children?? then look me in the eye, and tell me that i’m wrong. that_ you _were wrong. tell me that i’m as real a monster as you are.“_

_A silence followed. Barely heard within it was the quiet rattle of bones shaking._

_Soon, there was a scoff of bitter disbelief. "guess that answers that, then.”_

_The soft scuff of footsteps indicated someone walking away. “you wanna know_ why _i wanted to work here? it’s 'cuz i missed you. i wanted to see what was so much more important to you than taking care of your 'sons’, and be a part of it. i wanted to be an important part of your life again…but, heh, turns out i never really was, huh?”_

_A door opened. “have fun blowing yourself up,_ doc _. or, hey, if it_ does _work and you go through with your mass exodus scheme, give my regards to the_ real _sans.”_

_The door closed with a sharp_ BANG! _, which succeeded in disturbing the paper avalanche so much, the camera and surrounding documents were knocked off whatever perch they were on, and tumbled to the floor._

_The camera, laying on its side, found the lower half of someone wearing black pants and a long black cloak standing a few feet away, back to a door. A bone white hand, a perfectly round hole through the palm, hung limply at the person’s side, before slowly reaching up at their off-screen chest. The rustle of fabric preluded the flapping of paper, then everything became still and silent once again._

_"…It will work. It’s going to work. It_ has _to work. It_ needs _to work. It is_ going _to_  work _.“_

_Dr. Gaster’s hand fell back to his side. In it, some sort of card was clutched._

_"You’ll understand one day, Sans. You’ll understand…”_

_And with that resolute statement, the tape ran out of free space, and the camera stopped recording._

\----

…

……

………

…………

"…That’s it?  _That_  was it? That. Answered. NOTHING!“

He had remained perfectly quiet and undistracted since the first tape played. Steadfast he remained observant to every dirty detail they contained. He never joined in the discussions between the switching of the tapes, for he decided there would be nothing to say until everything had been viewed, every answer displayed.

He was a being of no emotion, but if there was one thing Flowey hated most, it was the feeling of being cheated.

"Who is this guy!?” Flowey demanded in indignation, fury lining his expression. “Is he the impostor?! Is he the one causing all the weirdness?! How is he doing that!? Where is he now!? Why are you all acting like you don’t-!”

Realization made him falter. His face smoothed over somewhat, and he cast a slow, sweeping glance over the gathered in uncertain scrutiny.

"You…don’t… _remember_  him?“

And there it was. The elephant in the room. The one that had entered and stayed ever since the first tape was played. The revelation that never needed vocal acknowledgement, because  _everyone_  in the room had silently felt the crushing weight of its presence.

Despite the recorded proof of interactions and close relationships with him, everyone had behaved as though they had never seen or heard of Doctor W.D. Gaster before in their lives.

After a while of remaining ignored, Flowey growled and turned a sharp glare to the most recent ex-Royal Scientist. "You. Play the next tape.”

Alphys remained still as stone for a moment before looking to the flower, clearly shaken yet not shaking in the slightest. “Th…There aren’t anymore.”

"There  _has_  to be more!“ Flowey snapped, looking irritated. "The impostor said we’d find 'sufficient insight to the knowledge we seek’ in these! I  _know_ I’m not the only one who feels like they’ve left us more questions than answers! So stop lying and play the next tape already because there’s gotta be more to it that this!!”

"There  _aren’t_  anymore tapes!“ Alphys reemphasized, and finally she started to quiver. "I only ever f-found tapes labeled one th-through sixteen! And w-we’ve watched them all!” Without breaking eye contact, she reached around for the now empty box the tapes had been stored in and held it out toward the flower. “S-See for yourself if you d-don’t believe-!”

_Thunk_

Not only Alphys, but everyone flinched as though the soft, otherwise uninteresting sound was as loud and alarming as a gunshot. With rigid movements, practically everyone turned their heads to peer into the depths of the empty box.

…In which, unceremoniously, rested another video tape.

Alphys’ mouth opened and closed several times without uttering a single peep, her pupils growing large behind her glasses. “There were…only sixteen…” she murmured when the words finally came. “Where did…? When did…? H-How did…?”

Her shaking hand hovered over the tape, debating over if she would actually feel it there if she did end up touching it, when it was suddenly yanked out from under her claws.

Her eyes, and several others’, followed after the tape as it rushed through the air, and out of everyone’s reach. It was joined with the VCR - yanked off of Papyrus’ lap in much the same manner - both objects outlined with a telltale, familiar blue aura. “ _Sans_ -”

But Toriel’s growl of warning did not deter the playing of the tape - the unmarked, seventeenth tape - for all to see. It began immediately and before anyone could interfere, or even try to, they were shocked into stillness when a very familiar skeleton spoke straight into the camera this tape was recorded with:

_“i don’t have much time.”_  The recording of Sans spoke in a low, urgent voice, a look of panic and distress on his wet-with-sweat skull.  _“no tellin’ when she’ll find this place. if she hasn’t already, of course.”_

The location past-Sans recorded himself in appeared to be the office room in which Dr. Gaster did most of his journal entries. It seemed far more dark and lifeless now than in previous recordings.

_“i…”_  Past-Sans groaned and clutched at his head, the distress on his face increasing.  _“i’m still tryin’ to make sense of what happened. or if it really ever happened at all. heh heh, i feel like i’m going crazy; tryin’ to wrap my head around it all. hell, maybe i already have gone crazy and made the whole damn thing up! i’d believe anythin’ at this point so long as it proves that_ that  _didn’t really happen!”_

Present-Sans watched his past self take in several deep breaths, somewhat crazed laughter hidden in each exhale, silently. Eventually, past-Sans calmed down enough to stop laughing, and stared into the camera. He looked desperate.

_“i left the lab after that day and never went back. it was weeks before i finally broke under pap’s hounding and told him about my little…'falling out’ with the doc. not the whole story, but enough to let him know how bad it was. he was the one who convinced me to try and reconcile with him, but it was still another couple of weeks before i felt ready to face him again. and when i finally went back, he…”_

Anger crossed past-Sans’ features. He looked away from the camera, his face morphing into a scowl.

_“he did it. that crazy bastard went ahead and continued the project. despite all the warning signs, despite my totally rational misgivings, he still went through with it. i got there in time to see that goddamn, high and mighty, crazy bastard fire up that fucking death trap of a machi-gyuuhh!!”_

Past-Sans cried out in pain and crumpled in on himself, jostling the camera in his wake. Though momentarily disturbed, it remained where it was, and focused on the wall behind where past-Sans originally sat. Out of the camera’s line of sight, past-Sans was hissing and whimpering.

_“…i told him…i t-told him it w-wasn’t safe…th-that it would end badly…i s-said it could all b-blow up in his…i-i said he c-could…that doesn’t mean i r-really wanted him to..!”_

Past-Sans’ breathing had become restricted and somewhat mournful. When he was finally able to right himself and look back to the camera, those in the present went stiff with shock to see the skeleton’s left eye socket ablaze with blue and yellow light.

_“i tried to stop it.”_  Past-Sans looked to be in pain; physical and emotional.  _“i tried to stop him. but he…a-and then…i-it was so_ dark _…”_

Past-Sans shuddered and tightly closed his eyes, his hand clutching at the burning left one. There was a creak of a mattress as present-Sans got to his feet.

_“…i can’t remember exactly what had happened immediately after that. when i woke up, everything was in shambles, and everyone was gone. when i woke up…i had_ this _.”_  Past-Sans opened his left eye, which stared straight into the camera through his bony fingers and continued to brightly burn.  _“and that’s not the only thing. i can…i can_ go _places now, w-without needing to walk or move. i can just…appear there. and then there’re these…these_ nightmares _…”_

Present-Sans shuffled forward, zombie-like, toward the screen.

_“b-but that’s not…n-not even the strangest part. i…i couldn’t find anyone that had been there when…i knew there’d be questions about what happened. questions i would have to answer. when i was finally able to get outta there, prepared for whatever they were gonna ask me…nothing happened. i wasn’t questioned about where everyone had gone, or what happened to the project. it was like it never even occurred to them that something catastrophic to the whole damn underground almost went down!”_

Present-Sans moved ever forward, not once looking away from the screen.

_“i knew then that something was wrong. that something was horribly, horribly wrong. it wasn’t until i got home to papyrus that i found out how wrong it was. those who had been near the machine when things went downhill; core workers, colleagues, the doc…they’re not just 'gone’…_

_"it’s like they never even existed in the first place.”_

Present-Sans came to a deathly still halt in front of the wall-mounted monitor, little less than a yard’s distance between his face and the screen.

_“b-but that…that can’t be right, can it? i-i mean, all his research documents 'n stuff-”_  Past-Sans gestured to the dark room around him, to the towers of papers surrounding him.  _“-are still here. a-and the core; it couldn’t be here if he never existed, but that’s still around and kickin’! an’ me 'n pap…e-everything he’s done and created is still here; it’s just that…no one seems to remember him…”_

Hard to tell if it was in accordance with his mood or not, but the VCR present-Sans was keeping aloft was slowly sinking through the air.

_“…the anomaly.”_  Past-Sans’ voice became heavy with realization.  _“th-the anomaly must’ve done this! the machine must’ve worked, a-and he must’ve reached the anomaly when it…no. it couldn’t’ve killed him, could it? then maybe…maybe he was right about the anomaly being a place instead of an entity? then he and the others must be trapped there! in the anomaly!”_

Past-Sans started searching through the papers around him while mumbling incoherently; something about 'too much juice’ and 'reduce the scale’. It wasn’t too long before he found what he was looking for; schematics of some sort on blue paper which he then rolled up and tucked under his arm. Before turning back to the camera, he spotted and picked up something else; something that made a mixture of reminiscence and love and grief roll over his face. His breathing had worsened a bit.

And when past-Sans finally turned back to the camera, his expression more full of determination than anyone had ever seen him wear before, he acted not as though speaking into the video-recorder, but directly to the persons gathered in the here and now.

_“this is a message to you, future-me. i don’t know how long it will take. i don’t even know if i can do it on my own. but i gotta try. i gotta try and get them back. that’s what i’m gonna do, so here’s your job, future-sans:_

_"remember. remember his work, remember his legacy, remember_ him _. 'cuz if you don’t, no one will. 'cuz if you don’t…it will all have been in vain. everything he did for the underground, his people…us…”_

That love and grief concoction flashed across his face again as he briefly looked down. There was a sound of pen against paper, and when past-Sans turned back to the camera, he held between it and his face a card of some sort. On it was a poorly drawn picture of three smiling people, along with recently added words: don’t forget.

_“don’t forget, sans.”_  Past-Sans flinched at a distant noise, then gathered himself off the ground and reached to the camera.  _“don’t. forget.”_

And the final recording ended.

\----

The VCR was back on the ground, and had already started the process of automatically rewinding the tape it had been playing. The screen upon the wall had gone dark when the tape concluded. The short skeleton standing before it did not move in the slightest.

That alone was cause for concern for those gathered behind him. Add to the fact his recent behavior and the contents of the tapes - that last one, especially - and they were all very…very worried about him.

Toriel shifted uneasily, her expression conflicted. “Sans, I…” she began humbly, her gaze wandering. “I do not know what to s-”

She was cut off by a sound that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Not just hers, but also Asgore’s and Undyne’s, and the sound made even those that did not have hair experience this sensation, too. It was low. It was hollow. It was joyless. It was borderline manic.

It was laughter.

"…heh…heh heh heh…heheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheh…“

Sans’ shoulders bounced with every syllable. His head turned more toward the ground as the chuckles grew more numerous, more disconcerting. If the others were worried about him before, that worry increased tenfold with this turn of events.

"heheheheheheeehhhh. ohhhh i see. i see. so that’s how it is then, huh?”

With barely a breath’s pause, Sans threw his arm out to one side, then across his chest to the other. Those on and in front of the couch felt something rush by behind their heads, and snapped those around in time to see and hear Flowey’s pot shatter against the far right wall-

"you  _still_  don’t know when to  _quit_.“

-where an explosion of skewer-like bones erupted out of the plaster to meet it.

Those not already standing jumped to their feet, gaping and gasping in shock. Those were drowned by Flowey’s shriek as the bones impaled his stem, tore through his petals, shredded his root system. Bits and pieces of him slipped through the spaces between the bones and joined the dirt and shattered remains of his pot on the tile beneath him.

"missed screwing around with good ol’ 'smiley trashbag’, didja?” Slowly, Sans turned to his right, his smile wide and his sockets empty. “had to get in one last jab so you could come out on top and watch your old plaything finally break, didn’t'cha?”

The bones dissipated, causing Flowey to fall into the dirt, littered with smashed pieces of clay and his own shredded, lifeless body parts.

"you just can’t get enough, can you, you little bastard?“

Worry had morphed into fear quite some time ago. But that fear brought hesitance, clear even in Undyne as she became the first to try and reason with the skeleton. "H-Hey, Sans, listen. I hate the weed as much as you do, and it kills me to say this, but we still need him. 'sides, I don’t think you’re really in a good mental place right now to be-”

"stay out of this.“

Anger crossed her features, but she did her best to remain calm. "Hey. You need to calm d-”

"Stay.“

The next thing Undyne knew, her soul felt like enormous weights had been latched onto it.

"The hell.”

Her knees buckled under the pressure, her whole body aglow with blue light.

"Out of this.“

Then she, too, was thrown against the wall.

More gasps and yelps of shock resounded as the magic kept Undyne’s back against the cracked plaster. That was the only thing the others were able to do before they, too, suddenly felt their souls become heavy and their legs lock up beneath the weight. In rapid-fire sequence, one by one, they joined Undyne against the far left wall, right next to each other, all lined up nice and neat like collectibles.

They felt the magic release their souls, but they were not spared even a moment to catch their breaths when they found themselves surrounded by light blue bones that caged them, pinned them down, inhibited them from moving at all.

And, most importantly, prohibited them from using their own magic.

Though they could not move, they could still speak. And most of them had something to say. "Y-You crazy bonehead!!” Undyne snarled, clearly the one most enraged by this sudden turn of events. “Let us go!!!”

"Oh god oh god oh god oh god,“ Alphys kept gasping under her breath, and tried very hard to keep still despite the fear making her nerves go haywire.

"Stop this immediately, Sans!” Asgore ordered, though any royal authority he once had was undermined by the nervousness in his voice and his face.

"Sans, cease this at once!“ Toriel pleaded, and succeeded in sounding more forceful than her ex-husband. "I-I understand that you are troubled by what we have seen, but you solve nothing by lashing out in this manner!”

"SANS…“ Papyrus’ voice was hoarse and broken, fresh tears springing forth into his sockets. ” _BROTHER_ …WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS…?“

Sans, with their back to them, reacted only to Papyrus’ voice. And he reacted by chuckling darkly and doing a full-armed shrug. "heh heh, ’s just another clear-cut case of 'mass-amnesia, 'cept good ol’ sans is the exception’, is all.”

Toriel’s attention was divided, her eyes darting between the skeleton imprisoning them and down toward her feet, yet she was the one to ask, “Wh…What do you mean by that?”

Sans let out something between a groan and a sigh and lowered his arms. “…yeah. may as well spill it.  _everyone’s_  dirty laundry’s gettin’ aired out tonight; might as well air out the rest of yours, eh?”

Confusion flitted across the expressions of those pinned against the wall. “Meaning?” demanded Undyne.

"the resets,“ began Sans, his voice remaining even and emotionless. "i’ve seen the nastiness spawned from those, and remembered it. the rest of you all got to see it, too. but what you haven’t seen, what i alone remember seeing, were the ones that came before the ones we all know and love.”

That only served to make the imprisoned more confused. “Wh…Wh-What?” stammered Alphys.

"there was another rash of resets before the ones we’re all familiar with.“ Sans’ voice was growing colder, darker. "someone else had the power to rewind the clock in the underground. and that someone-” He lifted his arm, and pointed an accusatory finger. “-is right there.”

It wasn’t hard to tell who the finger of blame was pointing to; there was only one person in that general vicinity. But to see who the culprit was, to understand the gravity of the crime, and their reaction times were considerably slow and hindered by the pure shock of it all.

"F… _FLOWEY_?“

The flower was in a bad way. His petals were in tatters and his stem was crooked and bent. Heavy and labored breaths made his whole body shake. He could barely lift his head off the ground.

To look at this flower, this damaged, tiny flower, and disbelief became the primary emotion in everyone’s expressions. "But…how could-?”

"'how’ don’t really matter,“ Sans interrupted Asgore, his arm lowering once again. "that’s not the juicy bit. no, the  _real_  kicker is what our little yellow friend here decided to do in his resets. you thought just goin’ around killing everyone was bad? heh heh heh, that’s  _nothing_  to what this little bastard’s done.”

Sans began approaching the battered flower, his gait extremely slow and intimidating. “he went around befriending us, getting to know us, getting to know what made us tick, what made us act, what got under our skin. and as soon as he had all that information? he used it. he used it to get under our skin, to manipulate us, to torture us, to  _break_  us. in  _every_  sense of the word. he found out what we’re most afraid of, and used that to make us as malleable as putty in his hands. and you wanna know why? it was all because he was  _bored_.”

He spat the last word out as if spitting out rotten food. He came to a stop only steps away from his starting point. “and that’s just what you’ve been doin’ this time around, right? you got bored again, and wanted to see if you still had what it takes to  _break_  someone; to break  _me_. by luring us down here with promises of answers, when in reality you’ve just been pullin’ your 'translations’ straight outta your ass.  _right_?”

Flowey finally managed to get his face out of the dirt. He turned it up to glare at Sans, the anger he showed hiding the rising fear he felt. “You…You insane nut job! I wasn’t making anything u- _guh_!”

The flower was silenced as another bone appeared, this time taking a swipe at his face that hit him across the mouth. That helped in righting him further, but also made the facade of anger weaken further.

Witnesses to this violence, the others felt incredibly conflicted about whether or not it was justified. “ _SANS_ …”

"…you got away with it every time.“ Sans’ voice felt, somehow, more emotionless than before. "you reset to escape the repercussions of your actions. you reset whenever things wouldn’t go your way. you broke every little 'toy’ in your 'toy box’, then reset just so you could do it all. over. again. but you got another thing comin’ if you think you can get away with screwing with our heads now.”

One hand, he stuck in his hoodie pocket. The other, he threw up into the air. Within that same millisecond, the blaster appeared.

Everyone, Flowey especially, became seized with fright and panic. The massive skull loomed over Sans’ head, non-sentient but not non-threatening. They had born witness to what it was capable of, the damage it could deal, the destruction it could cause.

And with its muzzle pointed straight at Flowey, they all knew what was going to happen next.

"you’ve abused your power for far too long. you’ve used and manipulated us for far too long. you’ve been  _veeery_  bad and naughty, bud.“

With a flick of his wrist, the skull’s eye sockets lit up.

"and it’s high time you were  _grounded_.”

"…! Sans, stop!“

"must be a beautiful day outside.”

"O-Oh god! Sans, d-don’t!“

"birds’re prob'bly singing…”

"Stop, Sans!“

"the flowers’re all in bloom…”

"Sans!  _Please_!“

"on days like this, weeds like you…”

" _BROTHER!!!_ “

"Should be burning in-”

Sans was still. Flowey was still. Those against the wall were still. The deadly blaster was deathly still. The silence was so great and thick, it could be cut with a knife.

"…frisk.  _move_.“

It was alarming, really, how very like a wilted plant Frisk had become as of late. The differences from how they were only a day ago made it as though they were a different person altogether. Their skin was pale and shriveled up, veins and tendons conspicuously popping out beneath the thin tissue. It appeared as though they had lost a lot of body mass; the shirt that had fit them perfectly yesterday now looked at least three sizes too big (he could easily see the burns on their chest, thanks in part to the shirt’s stretched-out collar (courtesy of Undyne)). Their hair was like a gnarled bed of dried-up tree roots, messy and matted and yet appeared so brittle that, if a single strand was pulled using the smallest amount of force, it’d snap off just like that. Their face was horribly sunken-in (Sans could make out practically every angle and curve of their facial bones), dark circles nearly as dark as his sockets hanging under their bloodshot eyes.

Bloodshot eyes that were, currently, glaring dead straight into his.

Sans inwardly winced. Alarming as their appearance was, more alarming still was how they had gotten to where they were without him noticing in the slightest. His eyes had been closed, so of course he wouldn’t have seen anything, but surely he should’ve  _heard_  something. The squeak of their bare feet across the tile, the shallowness of their breath; how could they have gone so unnoticed by him for this long?

…What definitely wasn’t going unnoticed was the intensity of the kid’s stare. And the determination fueling every ounce of it.

Move, they did. Without their feet lifting fully off the ground, they side-stepped to their left, further putting themself directly between Flowey, and the massive, deadly skull pointed straight at them.

The corner of Sans’ mouth twitched, then he smiled. "heh. props to you for exploiting the old 'you didn’t say where to’ clause there, kid. i taught you well.

"however.” The ounce of pride that had been in his voice vanished, not a trace left in its wake as Sans’ expression became even more serious than before. “every good jokester needs to know when the mood doesn’t call for such japes and  _get out of the way_.”

Sans’ arm remained raised, keeping the massive skull looming above him pointed straight at Frisk (the flower behind them, actually). Without breaking eye contact, without even the slightest bit of acknowledgement to the danger aimed right at them, Frisk scooted left another inch, completely ensuring that they would be taking the whole of the attack, if it ever came.

Sans’ winces were becoming less subtle. He let out a groan/sigh. “alright. show’s over, kid. and if you’re not gonna get off the stage-” He extended his other arm straight out in front of himself. “-you’re gonna get the crook.”

He felt his magic find purchase with their soul; the sensation was immediate and satisfyingly so. He tugged at it, making them scoot even further to his right-

Sans frowned. His hold was firm and strong; Frisk shouldn’t have stopped moving. But they did, their joints locking and their body leaning the opposite direction. The opposing forces of their resistance and his magic were equal; they cancelled each other out.

They did not once break eye contact.

A game of tug-o-war then commenced. He tugged their soul left, they braced their body to the right. He tried to pull them towards him, they took a step backwards. He pushed them away, they stooped forward. He even attempted to lift them off the floor, only to have them crouch low. His hand clenched into a fist which he threw downwards-

Their legs immediately gave out, and they fell to their hands and knees with a soft gasp.

Only then did Sans falter.

Considering the last time he had this much of a hold on them, he was being ridiculously gentle in his current handling of the kid. He could have used more force if he so chose to, like he did just now, but he knew he shouldn’t. Not only was their frail-with-sickness state a major deciding factor in reaching this decision, plus all the trauma their soul went through when they were top-side, but so was more recent circumstances.

They must’ve broken away from Toriel and passed through the blue bones caging the others. The moment he had their soul in his grasp, he could feel how weakened it had become; the poison of Karmic Retribution had taken its pound of flesh. Hard to say just how much it had shaved off their relatively low HP, but Frisk’s soul had taken significant damage.

And slamming them into the floor certainly did little to help in that department.

They were shaking head to toe. Their breathing, already weak, had coarsened. Despite all this, Sans was too in shock of his actions to loosen his grip at all.

…Even when Frisk, still trembling under the weight of their soul and the weakness of their body, righted themself.

It was a slow and taxing effort; they stumbled several times before their legs would fully cooperate. Even then, to return to a standing position took even more time and effort. They finally succeeded in fully righting themself, not bothering or simply not having the strength to brush aside the hair that had fallen over their face as that, too, returned to face Sans.

Their hands clenched into fists at their sides, lines of strain aging their already withered complexion, Frisk walked forward.

They moved as though possessed; slow and unsteady and shambling. But their eyes were clear, and no mask adorned their face. They were lucid and in control. And they were walking straight toward Sans, the grimacing glare they wore so intense and determined Sans felt it burn.

In the back of his mind, he started to hear sobs.

The skeleton, very noticeably, cringed. He tried not to think about it, but the closer they got, the more he was unable to push those thoughts and visions down. Thoughts of past trials the kid had survived. Visions of the child suffering in fear and despair. Of their body torn apart and mutilated in the most gruesome ways imaginable. Of the poor kid so devoid of hope they no longer had the will to live.

All the while, the sobs echoed in his head. A child’s muffled sobs of pain and agony as someone close to them, someone they were supposed to trust, betrayed them in the most unimaginable, unspeakable…absolutely  _unforgivable_  ways he’d never known before.

…Ways that, unintentionally…he had once made them believe he would use to hurt them next.

Through the visions and the sobs, Sans could see Frisk continue their approach, their eyes holding his with crushing command. Sweat started rolling down his skull. “frisk…enough.”

They kept getting closer.

"just…j-just let me do this, alright?“

His gait weakened, causing his foot to slide back to regain his stability.

"this is for the best; he…he won’t be able to hurt anyone anymore this way.”

Their breaths were heavy and shaky, subtle whimpers laced into each exhale.

"d-don’t'cha want that, frisk? for him not to hurt anyone anymore??“

Desperation was slipping into his tone, and his facial features.

"he’s…he’s n-not like you, frisk. he doesn’t feel sorry about what he’s done.”

They were less than a yard away from him.

"he  _can’t_  feel sorry for what he’s done. he’ll  _never_  feel sorry about it at all.“

His arms were starting to shake.

"you can’t…you can’t possibly keep defending that soulless bastard? after everything he did to you??”

Thick liquid crimson started to ooze from both their nostrils.

Finally, he snapped. “he’s  _gone_ , frisk! dead and gone!  _he’s_  not  _him_! you can’t change that! you can’t change him! you can’t- _you can’t save him_ -!!”

They tripped over their own feet on the last step, but Frisk finally closed the distance between them and the skeleton with a deep, tight hug.

"You oughta know by now that killing is never the answer.“

Sans became rigid and immobile, the lights in his sockets vanishing. Frisk’s arms remained around him, their hands desperately clinging to the back of his jacket an their whole weight thrown into the embrace. That felt alarmingly different, too; even with their soul remaining heavy with magic, Sans barely felt any weight behind their hug at all. Their forehead was pressed against his sternum,  _just_  their forehead, and he could feel the warmth of their breath and the shivering of their skin through the multiple fabrics that clothed him.

The great, thick silence returned.

…

…

…

…

”…d…d- _dammit_ …“

With the relaxing of his arms, which fell down lifelessly to his sides, the weight on Frisk’s soul lifted, those who were pinned to the wall were released, and the blaster above his head vanished into nothingness.

”…heh…heh heh…“ Broken chuckles matched the broken smile on Sans’ face as he reached one hand back up, to cover his eyes. "you’re right. you’re totally, a hundred percent right. killing’s  _never_  the answer. heh heh, can’t believe i lost my cool like that and forgot my own advice. that was super uncool of me, huh? heh heh heh heh heh…”

He started to tremble. It was a while before he felt the grip on his hoodie release, the body slumped against his pull away. He moved his hand, sneakily catching any stray tears as he did, and looked down to find Frisk staring up at him in loving concern.

"…i’m fine, kiddo,“ he said as convincingly as he could manage, and he reached his other hand up to give their shoulder a small squeeze. "really, i am. i just…”

His fingers dug into their shirt (it surprised him how much muscle he  _didn’t_  feel in his grasp) before he let go, turned, and walked away. “i just got a lot to think about.”

Though the situation had been diffused, the threat he posed nullified, the group that had been caged watched Sans warily as he trudged past them, his shoulders slumped forward and the lights in his eyes dim. One among them braved approaching him. “S…SANS-”

"not now, papyrus.“ His tone was low and emotionless.

Nevertheless, Papyrus persisted. "BUT-BUT, BROTHER-”

Sans stopped and looked at him. He looked defeated, broken, but most of all, tired.

"not. now,“ he pleaded, his tone firm yet not at all forceful.

And Papyrus backed off, though he looked pained to do so, and let his brother walk away.

\----

The air finally felt breathable again, though no one looked to be in the mood to be rejoicing this. They looked stupefied, thoughtful, like everything they’d ever known had been turned on its head and upside-down. Like they didn’t know what to think at all.

As they stood there, contemplating, little notice was taken of the one who had just proven the mettle of their ambassadorial skills, who was slowly staggering toward the eastern side of the room. They unwrapped the scarf around their neck as they shuffled along. When they reached the far wall, they knelt down in front of the mound of dirt, broken clay, and dead plant tissue nestled there, laying the scarf down between them.

As carefully as their shaking hands could manage, they dug both hands into the dirt, cupped them, and lifted. In their hands was a small handful of soil, in which a small, tattered flower settled.

Flowey watched Frisk as they carefully deposited him and his dirt mound onto the scarf, wrapped the remainder around his bruised stem, then lift the whole bundle up with them as they got back to their feet, and wordlessly disappear into a nearby corridor.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning: suicide idealization
> 
> Yes I know this one's short (especially after the last one) but it was because of the last one's length that this one got the short end of the stick. (pun intended)
> 
> Things will really get rolling in the next one so stay tuned!

_New Home had never been more derelict._

_In times gone by, rare was there the occasion that the metropolis of the monster’s capital city was not bustling with activity. Even rarer was the occasion that the entrance to New Home, where the king made his prime place of residence, ever closed to the public. Sure, he would sometimes leave a simple lock and chain to block the way whenever he was elsewhere, but easily provided were the tools to remove this obstacle. Monsters could come and go as they please; there was always the feeling of the presence of multiple, friendly beings._

_Now, however, the atmosphere could be better likened to that of a grand mausoleum._

_The one that walked the path toward the building christened ‘New Home’ walked alone. The bandage on the back of their hand was on its last leg, ready to fall off at any moment. The plastic knife in the other hand was in even worse shape, already starting to fall apart. Their clothes had the wear and tear of one who had struggled through many a challenge, and were stiff with the slightly shimmery powder that clung to every fiber. More than that, the powder clung to every inch of them, tip to toe, so much so they left a faint trail of the stuff behind them as they walked. And they walked with certainty and without hesitation, like their end goal was finally in sight, and absolutely nothing was going to keep them from reaching it._

_That’s what it looked like. That is, until they crossed the building’s threshold, and they found New Home was not that derelict at all._

_"Howdy, Chara!“ greeted the small, smiling flower waiting within. "You finally made it home.”_

_The human walked forward, then turned to the hallway on their right._

_"Remember when we used to play here?“ the flower asked with a small laugh, eyes watching the human as they walked away. "Hee hee hee…Boy! Today’s gonna be just as fun.”_

_The hallway’s first left-hand door was opened, and the human entered through it._

_The flower disappeared back into the crack between the floor’s wooden planks, burrowed, then reappeared in the room the human had just entered. The human themself was removing the bandage._

_"I remember when I first woke up here,“ the flower reminisced, "in the garden. I was so scared. I couldn’t feel my arms or legs…my entire body had turned into a flower! 'Mom! Dad! Somebody help me!’ I called out. But nobody came.”_

_Both bandage and toy fell pitifully onto the wood with barely a noise. The human walked to the wrapped-up box closest to the door, and tore it open. From out of its depths, they pulled up a heart-shaped locket. They immediately looped it around their head - dust was stirred up as the chain scraped against their hair - and hung it from their neck._

_"Right were it belongs.“ The flower chortled, and gave one of the button-eyed plushies near him a bop on the head, stirring up the dust clinging to it. ”'Best Friends Forever’, indeed. Hee hee hee…“_

_The human stood, and walked over to the next present. They ripped off its lid and retrieved the knife inside, its sharpness and realness attributes off the charts._

_"Here we are! About time!” The flower continued fussing with the plushie, a smile on his face yet complete disinterest in his eyes. “I was wondering when you were going to trade up that dingy old thing for something really fun, hee hee hee hee…”_

_The human’s fingers locking around the knife’s handle, they turned and walked back out the door._

_The flower, his face following the human as it departed, gave the plushie one final push that knocked it over to its side, re-burrowed, and popped up in the hallway._

_"Eventually,“ he continued as the human passed him, "the king found me, crying in the garden. I explained what had happened to him.”_

_A key on a small table against the northern wall was snatched up, then attached to a key chain._

_"Then he held me, Chara. He held me, with tears in his eyes, saying, 'There, there. Everything is going to be alright.’“_

_The human passed by him once again._

_"He was so…emotional. But…for some reason…I didn’t feel anything at all.”_

_The flower paused at that, staring at the wall as the human walked further away. He re-burrowed, then popped back up at the doorway to the kitchen._

_"I soon realized I didn’t feel anything about anyone. My compassion had disappeared! And believe me, it’s not like I wasn’t trying.“_

_He heard another key snatched and attached, then the human re-entered the reading room._

_"I wasted weeks with that stupid king,” the flower admitted, his brows furrowing, “vainly hoping I would feel something.”_

_His face smoothed out again. “But it became too much for me. I ran away from home.”_

_The human walked past him, re-entered the main hall._

_"Eventually,“ the flower continued after popping back up in the same spot he had been in when he first greeted the human. "I reached the Ruins. Inside I found_ her _, Chara.”_

_The human walked up to the chain barring the way to the stairs, and began undoing the locks._

_"I thought, of all people,_ she _could make me feel whole again.“ Though he was smiling, something in the flower’s eyes mimicked forlorn disappointment. ”…She failed. Ha ha…“_

_The locks and chain fell to the floor with a metallic clatter. The human stepped over them and headed for the stairs._

_The flower burrowed again, this time reappearing at the foot of the stairs. "I realized those two were useless,” he said as the human descended. “I became despondent. I just wanted to love someone. I just wanted to care about someone.”_

_The human reached the last step. The flower stared up at them. “Chara, you might not believe this, but I decided…it wasn’t worth living anymore. Not in a world without love. Not in a world without you.”_

_The human walked in front of him. “So…I decided to follow in your footsteps. I would erase myself from existence. And you know what?”_

_The flower smiled widely. “I succeeded.”_

_The human pressed onward._

_The ground was soft and easy to maneuver through down there, so the flower caught up to the human and continued along beside them above ground. “But as I left this mortal coil…I started to feel apprehensive. If you don’t have a soul, what happens when you…?”_

_They turned a corner. “Something primal started to burn inside me. 'No,’ I thought. 'I don’t want to die!’ …Then I woke up. Like it was all just a bad dream. I was back in the garden.”_

_A hint of coyness entered the flower’s voice, as if he was talking of an inside joke he shared with the human. “Back at my 'save point’.”_

_The human continued onward._

_"Interested, I decided to experiment. Again and again, I brought myself to the edge of death. At any point, I could have let this world continue on without me. But as long as I was determined to live…I could go back.“_

_He smiled up at the human again, the glint of something in his eyes. "Amazing, isn’t it, Chara? I was amazed, too.”_

_They turned another corner again._

_"At first, I used my powers for good. I became 'friends’ with everyone. I solved all their problems flawlessly. Their companionship was amusing…for a while.“_

_The ground had started to get coarser now, but the flower kept up with the human. "As time repeated, people proved themselves predictable. What would this person say if I gave them this? What would they do if I said this to them? Once you know the answer, that’s it. That’s all they are.”_

_Buildings emptied in a hurry loomed over them as the human continued onward._

_"It all started because I was curious. Curious what would happen if I killed them. 'I don’t like this,’ I told myself. 'I’m just doing this because I_ have _to know what happens.’“ His face stretched into a broad, cruel smile that showed off broad, flat teeth as he snickered. "Ha ha ha…What an excuse!”_

_His smile turned thin and sharp, his eyes expanding into gaping holes of darkness that stared straight up at the human’s face. “You of all people must know how liberating it is to act this way. At least we’re better than those sickos that stand around and_ watch _it happen… Those pathetic people that want to see it, but are too weak to do it themselves.”_

_For a moment, he looked around himself, at the buildings that surrounded them. Or perhaps past them, into secret nooks and crannies perfect for hiding, say, a camera. “I bet someone like that’s watching right now, aren’t they…?”_

_Without missing a beat, the human continued onward._

_"Nowadays, even that’s grown tiring.“ Following along beside them, the flower looked back up at the human and smiled. "You understand, Chara. I’ve done everything this world has to offer. I’ve read every book. I’ve burned every book. I’ve won every game. I’ve lost every game. I’ve appeased everyone. I’ve killed everyone. Sets of numbers…lines of dialogue…I’ve seen them all.”_

_Briefly, exhaustion seeped into his words. It left as he claimed, “But you…_ you’re _different. I never could predict_ you _, Chara.”_

_The human pressed on._

_"When I saw you in the Ruins,“ the flower admitted, "I didn’t recognize you. I thought I could frighten you, then steal your soul. I failed. And when I tried to load my save file…it didn’t work.”_

_He shook his head, as if disappointed with himself for overlooking something painfully obvious. “Chara…your determination! Somehow, it’s even greater than mine!”_

_The human continued, the flower did not. The ground had become too rough for him to plow through while keeping himself surfaced. So, after watching the human walk for a bit, he burrowed, then popped up further down the path, where the ground was a bit softer._

_"I just have one question for you, Chara. How did you get back to the Ruins from here…?“_

_As the human approached, the flower’s face smoothed over with realization. ”…wait, I know. She must have taken you when she left, and decided to give you a proper burial, rather than…hanging out in the basement forever.“_

_He said that last bit with a knowing expression. That soon left, and in its wake was left a frown. ”…but, why then…? What made you wake up?“_

_As the human passed in front of him, he tried to catch their eye. "Did you hear me calling you…?”_

_Once again, the human passed him by._

_He watched them walk away for a moment, his expression unchanged. Once again he then burrowed, and popped back up further down the path._

_"It doesn’t matter now. I’m so tired of this, Chara. I’m tired of all these people. I’m tired of all these places. I’m tired of being a flower.“_

_His head had been turned down as he said these things, then he raised it back up to the approaching human. "Chara. There’s just one thing left I want to do. Let’s finish what we started. Let’s free everyone. Then…”_

_That broad, cruel smile once again stretched across the flower’s face. “Let’s let them see what humanity is_ really _like! That despite it all, this world is still 'kill or be killed!!’”_

_Again, the human walked past him._

_Again, he burrowed and resurfaced further down. “Then…? Well, I had…been entertaining a few ways to use that power. Hee hee hee…”_

_He paused, his expression returning to its default. “…But seeing you here changed my mind. Chara…I think if you’re around…just living in the surface world doesn’t seem so bad.”_

_It might have just been his imagination, but the flower could’ve sworn the human’s pace faltered a bit._

_His smile broadened. “We don’t even need to leave to get them this time; the king has six of them locked away. I’ve tried hundreds of ways to get him to show me them…but he just won’t. Chara…I know he’ll do it for_ you _.”_

_The scene was bathed in subdued whiteness. New Home sprawled out beyond the outlook the human walked parallel to. The musty blue and purple of their stripped-shirt stood out like a beacon as they tread down the carved alabaster stone. One more time, the flower burrowed and reappeared further down the path the human walked._

_"Why am I telling you all of this? Chara, I said it before. Even after all this time…you’re still the only one who understands me. You won’t give me any worthless pity!“_

_And as the human passed him one more time, he darkly said, "Creatures like us…wouldn’t hesitate to_ kill  _each other if we got in each other’s way.”_

_The human’s shadow passed over him, and moved on._

_"So that’s…“_

_Something slipped into the flower’s voice. Something that made the human slow._

_"So…that’s…why…”_

_As the realization fully dawned on his face, the human came to a complete stop._

_"…ha…ha…what’s this…feeling…?“_

_It began as a shiver, which then increased into full-body tremors. Sweat started to bead along the flower’s brow. "Why am I…shaking?”_

_From the second they crossed the threshold of New Home, the human had not regarded the flower in the slightest; they acted as though he wasn’t there at all. Now, however, they turned their head, and looked down at him over their shoulder._

_The flower noticed this. He gulped heavily, trying yet failing to calm his tremors. “Hey…Chara…”_

_Having been stone-faced the entire time, the human slightly arched an eyebrow._

_"No hard feelings…about back then…right?“_

_Both knew, though there were plenty of 'back then’s the flower could’ve been referring to, the exact event to which he was alluding to. The human’s brow lowered._

_Quite slowly, the human fully turned, and walked toward him._

_"H-Hey!” The flower flinched away, a grimace on his face and his eyes wide with panic. “What are you doing!?”_

_The human kept approaching him, their grip on the knife in their hand tightening, an amused look on their otherwise placid face._

_Finally._

Someone _gets it._

_"B…Back off!!!“_

_The flower once again disappeared into the earth. The human stopped once more._

_"I…I’ve changed my mind about all this.”_

_The flower had resurfaced a good distance away, close to the elevator at the far end of the hall. He was still shaking petal to roots._

_"This isn’t a good idea anymore,“ he said with another gulp, struggling to keep his nerves in check. "Y-You should go back, Chara. This place is fine the way it is!”_

_At first, there was no movement from the human. Then, they turned around._

_And as they did, their mouth slowly curled into a wide, cruel, wicked smile. No other word could be used to describe their expression other than 'creepy’._

_The flower froze in fear._

_Why are you so scared? the smile asked. It’s only me._

_"S…S-S-Stop making that creepy face!“ the flower screeched, his tremors worsening._

_Why are you so scared? the grin inquired. You knew this was coming._

_"This isn’t funny!”_

_Why are you so scared? You asked for this._

_"You’ve got a_ sick _sense of humor!“_

_Suddenly, the flower found himself against the wall. The human was looming over him, the weight of their shadow crushing him. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. He could only see their smile; that sick, twisted smile that spoke with no words, formed them with no movement, over and over, that one simple question that made him, for the first time in since awakening in this form, feel something: Unbridled terror._

_Why_

_are_

_you_

_so_

_**s c a r e d ?** _

_…………_

_The human’s shadow suddenly felt less oppressive, their smile fading away. For an instant, they looked disgusted, revolted, disappointed._

_Their smile did not fade completely away, though. It became a small, amused smirk as they turned to their right._

_"You’ll have your turn soon enough.”_

_Without another word, they walked away, disappearing through the open archway and into the golden corridor beyond, leaving a faint trail of dust behind them._

_Only then did the flower feel safe enough to breathe again._

_His breaths were hitched and as shaky as he was. He felt as though he was breathing through a clogged-up straw, and though he had no heart or soul or other such internal organs, he could only describe the sensation he was experiencing as his heart beating out of his chest._

_This was a mistake. He had made a mistake. He made a big, big, colossally huge mistake. Why hadn’t he realized this sooner? But…but this was Chara! His friend! His best friend forever! He never betrayed them! He helped them! He was useful! He wouldn’t get in their way! They would…they would never…_

_…But what if they did?_

_It felt harder to breathe. Sweating so much it pooled beneath him, he turned his head toward the archway, seeing only a fraction of the corridor beyond. He listened closely…and could just barely make out someone’s voice. He knew that voice. He knew its owner. He knew what the owner was capable of, the frustration the owner had caused him, the frustration that made him, time and time again, go back and try again._

_In that, he found the faintest glimmer of hope._

_"He’ll stop them,“ the flower muttered to himself before disappearing into the earth._

_Just a moment after, the sounds of a great clash beginning echoed out of the last corridor._

\----

The lab complex had never felt more derelict.

Surely, this wasn’t true. There were more living, breathing people within its halls than there had been for years, ever since the lab had been left abandoned and the Underground went empty.

Oxymoronic statement aside, there remained an air of loneliness and gloom so thick it felt like trying to travel through - not over or around,  _through_  - massive snow drifts. Which resembled, exactly, how the human currently pressed through the lab complex.

Having just walked away from a tense, life-or-death situation they just scarcely avoided, the gloom and loneliness seemed to hone in on and surround the frail, sickly child and the frail, injured flower they carried. They trudged down the corridor as though their bones had been filled with concrete, stumbling into the wall more than once. Each time, they did their best to insure that their cargo was not further bruised or harmed as they entered the next room.

Dozens of golden flowers - still alive and well, despite their abandonment - littered the long storing unit against the southern wall; not even the yellow hue of their petals were enough to brighten up the space. The human approached these flowers, the one they carried wrapped up in a long red scarf bearing a striking resemblance to them, and was able to hover the bottom of the fabric completely over the solid surface before they tripped on poorly coordinated feet.

Their hands released the bundle (it barely made a sound as it dropped onto the smooth ceramic) and grabbed the shelf’s ledge as the rest of their body crumpled. They did not gasp or cry out in shock or pain, but their already hoarse breathing hitched, their whole frame shaking. They stayed that way for a while, steadying themself, before lowering themself to the tile floor and pulling open one of the unit’s drawers.

The flower had watched their every move in silence. Even now, the flower remained quiet as it monitored the child’s reflection, provided by one of the many wall-high mirrors against the opposite wall. It watched as they rooted through drawer after drawer, softly grunting in exertion when pulling them open, then sliding them shut when they proved not to contain whatever it was they were searching for. When they opened a door beside the shelves, they paused, then reached inside, their search seemingly coming to an end.

What also came to an end was the flower’s silence, just as soon as he spotted what they were retrieving.

"Frisk…just stop.”

There was a clink of clay against clay, the tear of burlap, the shifting of soil.

"…I mean it.“

A hand grasped the unit’s ledge, anchoring the human as they pulled themself back to their feet. In their other arm they held a round clay pot.

”…Would you knock it off already?“

After gentle placement of the pot on the counter-top, the human proceeded to carefully unwrap the scarf from around the flower’s stem, pausing often in case the flower suddenly drooped.

"Would you…”

With unsteady hands, they cupped the soil out of which the flower rested, lifting it up and over to the pot, where they carefully replanted the flower. As an afterthought, they made the attempt to brush off the dirt left behind on the scarf.

"… _just_ …“

Stooping back down, they retrieved another handful of nutrient-rich soil from the bag they dug out, and brought it back up to sprinkle it around-

"JUST STOP IT ALREADY YOU ABSOLUTE  _IDIOT_!!!”

A single vine burst out of the soil in Flowey’s new pot and wrapped around Frisk’s wrist, causing them to release the dirt in their hand.

"Do you think I  _care_  about new accommodations?!“ he screeched, lines of strain and discomfort appearing amidst the cracks and tears on his face. "You think I’m going to go gaga over the fact you stopped that trash-heap from doing me in?! Stop getting your hopes up because I  _won’t_! I  _won’t_ because I  _CAN’T_!”

The vine holding Frisk’s wrist started to shake.

"Don’t you get it yet!? All I am is a sentient mass of determination fused to this  _flower_! Get that through your thick skull already! I  _can’t_  be grateful! I  _can’t_  be sympathetic! I  _can’t_  be compassionate or remorseful or even furious! I. Can’t. Feel.  _Anything_. So you shouldn’t- I don’t want you to push yourself past the breaking point for someone like me!!!“

"Then what  _do_  you want?”

Flowey froze.

Frisk was staring right at him, not once struggling against his hold on their arm. They spoke softly; a wind’s whisper would have been louder than their voice. They held his gaze, concern and desperation in their eyes.

Flowey knew this look all too well. It was the look of someone who had nothing left to lose, nothing left to gain. The look of someone who was ready and willing to do anything for him. Literally  _anything_. This was a dangerous kind of desperation.

…Especially in the hands of a master manipulator such as himself.

A tick went off on his face. ‘What did he want’? What kind of question was that?? He knew what he wanted. He knew exactly what he wanted! There was no need for this idiot to ask him in a way that made it seem like he  _didn’t_ know!

………

…For starters, he wanted them to stop looking at him like that.

………

He wanted them to take care of that nosebleed already.

………

He wanted to know why he was so…unsettled by the sight of them.

………

He wanted to know why he didn’t want them to keep sticking up for him!

………

But no matter how many times he opened his mouth to say something,  _anything_ , the words did not come.

And it wasn’t for lack of imagination that the cat had his tongue; he had  _plenty_  of material to work with. He could point out that it was all their fault that Smiley snapped; he forced himself - and Papyrus, no less - to watch those tapes for Frisk’s sake. He could imply that Sans would never forgive them for not letting him finish the job. Or that they had made it so that Papyrus or Toriel or  _any_  of the others would ever trust that trashbag ever again. It was a bit of a stretch, but he could even go so far as to say Papyrus must now hate them for making his brother so upset! There was so much damage he could do to their psyche, and his lack of a moral compass gave him no reason to inhibit him from 'playing’ with Frisk.

……So what  _was_?

Was it out of pettiness to spite what Sans had said? To prove that he wasn’t just some master manipulator toying with the hearts of others out of boredom? …No, that wasn’t it. He had nothing he wanted to prove to that living garbage can. Even if his claims were somewhat-… _mostly_  accurate.

Maybe it was because, deep down, he knew there’d be nothing to gain from it. What he knew of Frisk was that they were the type of person to overthink and jump to the worst possible conclusion; it’d be a moot point to try and get thoughts into their head that had already crossed their mind.

…Was it that, because of what he had seen of Frisk’s memories, some tiny part of him had decided enough was enough? That Frisk didn’t deserve any further punishment or emotional torture?

…No that…that was the most far-fetched theory of them all! He had no soul, and no soul meant no compassion or sympathy or regret.

So what was it?

Why was he so unsure of himself??

A movement caught his eye, and he looked to find that it was his shaking reflection. He only glanced at it, at first, but as his tremors calmed, his gaze was drawn into the vision of himself the mirror held, his eyes staring straight back at him as the shakes finally ended.

The first time he had woken up as… _this_ , it had been in the throne room’s garden. He was unsure of himself then, but that was perfectly understandable. His last memory had been of finally succumbing to his injuries, crying out in fear and despair as his shared body became undone, then finally accepting the numb oblivion of permanent rest.

To open his eyes again, to feel dramatic, unnatural changes in his body map, to wake up as something he wasn’t in the exact spot where his dust had scattered…well,  _anyone_  would have freaked out.

Through time spent and re-spent through the strange ability he had discovered while on the brink of death, he came to have an understanding of what he was, why he was created, and what became of the Underground before his…it wouldn’t be correct to call it a 'resurrection’, but no other word came close. Reanimation, maybe?

He could have returned to the oblivion of death. There were a fair number of times he though about letting the world continue on without him. But there was always that feeling. That aching tug of the substance that had breathed new, incomplete life into him. That feeling of 'I don’t want to die’, 'I can’t die’, 'I won’t die’. It would always snatch him away from death’s door when he already had one foot in it, jerk him awake where he had last 'saved’.

Every accomplishment, loss, everything he had done: undone.

A clean slate. A new beginning. A chance to start over again, while retaining perfect knowledge of everything that had been wiped clean.

A chance to experiment. Without consequence.

And why did he experiment? Because he had nothing to lose? Because he was bored? Curious? …Because a small part of him still vainly believed that someone, something,  _anything_  would stir up an emotion other than self-preservation within his hollow body?

…But nothing ever did.

He had come back to this place before; the place of his 'rebirth’. He’d done it when he was still trying to understand what he was and why he could rewind the clock. He’d done it to torment the person that had brought him back from the darkness. He did it once to try and work with his creator to find a solution to his lack of empathy. That ended in failure; one that he remained completely unfazed by.

Now, he was back here again.

Back to being a small, powerless flower that could never know the release of finally moving on.

He stared at his reflection, catching behind him others that bore his likeness. The control cases from which he alone broke the mold. They all looked so small and frail, sitting abandoned in the darkness without nourishment, without nurturing, without purpose. The only thing that had kept them going for so long was the determination that had been introduced to their systems during the experiments he became a product of.

What difference was there between him and them now?

…What difference had there  _ever_  been?

He was just another flower; the fact that he had the consciousness of someone that had died a long time ago, a consciousness that solely depended on the foreign determination within him to stay alive, was nothing notable in the grand scheme of things. Just a fluke, a strange trick of fate. A flaw.

He was a flower, just like the ones behind him. Frail, weak, neglected, overlooked, powerless, helpless, hopeless.

Purposeless.

What  _did_  he want?

"……I……“

His vine uncoiled, slowly, from around Frisk’s wrist, retracted back into the dirt. His reflection finally stopped boring holes into him as his stem sagged, his face fell, and he answered in a voice that was as small as he felt:

"I don’t know anymore.”

He watched in silence as Frisk’s arms wrapped around the circumference of his new pot, and their head lowered until it rested, gingerly, against the base of his stem.

A makeshift hug. A pointless gesture.

…But one he found himself returning nonetheless, by closing his eyes and just barely pressing his head back against theirs.

\----

Hard to say how long it was the two remained in their 'embrace’. Neither of them had fallen asleep like that, not really. It was more along the lines of a meditative trance the quiet gloom of the room and the smell of golden flowers had lulled them into. Not exactly peaceful, but there was a certain tranquility surrounding the human and flower.

…One that was violently shattered when a hand was laid across the human’s shoulder.

Frisk cried out and recoiled as if the touch had delivered an electric shock. Flowey snapped to attention as Frisk’s arms tightened around his pot, both of them staring up in alarm and fear at the one that had intruded on their-

"I-I-It’s okay it’s okay! It’s me! It’s j-just me.“

Flowey almost immediately relaxed at the sight of Alphys standing there. Frisk, however, was another story. They continued staring, wide-eyed, at her in obvious horror for a solid ten seconds before the tension in their muscles finally, slowly, loosened. They had been holding their breath, and finally released it as they turned away from the scientist. They looked ashamed.

It broke Alphys’ heart to see them react to her simple touch as though something along the lines of a strike across the face would have followed it, and that they would feel ashamed for behaving like that. It broke even more now that she knew the reason why.

She did her best to hide that heartbreak as she approached them once again, even more cautiously than before. "I-I’m sorry,” she cooed softly, and reached out to touch their shoulder again. “I d-didn’t mean to spook you.”

They did not pull away from her hand. In fact they seemed to subtly lean into the kind gesture. Their eyes lifted to meet hers, and she tried to offer them a shaky smile; one that turned into a grimace once she fully registered the blood on their face.

Only then did the child seem aware of the fact they had been bleeding. They looked away and quickly rubbed the lower half of their face against their sleeve. Flowey and Alphys watched them silently.

There were still some dried stains, but most of the thick red liquid had been successfully removed. Frisk sniffled, then looked back to Alphys, who now looked nervous. “I j-just thought that…”

She brought her other hand forward, a paper cup held between her claws. “Well, y-you haven’t really been eating or d-drinking much in the past few hours. I thought that, maybe, y-you must be really thirsty, huh?”

Frisk’s gaze lowered to the offered cup. They stared at it for a while before extending a shaking hand to accept it. They turned to face Alphys, keeping the pot Flowey now occupied in their other arm, and stared into the clear water for another good while before pouring about half of it into the soil Flowey’s roots nestled in.

Alphys opened her mouth to protest, but thought against it. Flowey only eyed the human in what she could only surmise to be disinterest. Frisk, after dampening the dirt, brought the cup to their lips and tilted it back-

" _Hrk_ -!“

-only to gag on the tiny amount they had sipped as though it was poison.

They sputtered and spat, the cup dropping to the floor and spilling the rest across the tiles. Horrid, hacking coughs shook their whole frame as they choked, their free hand flying up to cover their mouth as their upper half pitched forward.

Alphys rushed to catch them before they could fall. It wasn’t like they weren’t that heavy, nor she that physically weak, but she thought it best to lower herself and them to the floor as the coughing fit continued. She knelt down beside them and held them close, holding them steady as she felt every cough shake through her as easily as it shook through them.

Through some small stroke of mercy, the fit did not last long. But it did leave the child in her arms trembling and whimpering and completely sapped of their strength. She held them in an upright kneel, her claws running through and trying to gently untangle their hair in a gesture of comfort.

Soon, the tremors started to quell, their breathing evening out. She looked down, trying to catch their eye, but her attention was caught and cruelly held by their hand as they pulled it away from their mouth.

It was the hand she had bandaged earlier. The cut had stopped bleeding long ago, and yet, there was now a big, angry splotch of red staining their palm.

To see this color, and Alphys was the one who was now whimpering. She pulled Frisk close and hugged them tight, hiding her becoming-wet-with-tears face in their unmanageable hair. Flowey eyed the stain with mild disgust, and, perhaps, a hint of worry.

Frisk only stared at their open palm, their expression completely neutral.

The trio stayed that way for a while until Alphys calmed down, her tears running dry. After making sure they would stay upright, she pulled away from Frisk a little and dried her face on a coat sleeve. She stared down at her lap, against which she pressed lightly-formed fists, and took a deep breath.

”…Will you come back with me to rejoin the others?“

Frisk’s fingers closed around the fresh blood they had coughed up, and both they and Flowey turned to stare at Alphys. Both of them shared looks of hesitance.

"I-It’s okay now,” she quickly assured them. “It r-really is. Sans has calmed down. E-Everyone has. We’ve all had time to p-process everything the tapes have shown us. Now that we have, I th-think I-…”

She clamped her mouth shut, rethinking her choice of words. After a decisive head shake, she took Frisk’s hand in both of hers and met their gaze properly. She looked determined.

"I  _know_  what’s happening to you.“


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listening recommendation: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zrWmvtmnrtg  
> more included further in chapter

_"I DID NOT DAMAGE YOUR MACHINE, DID I? I ASSURE YOU I WAS EXTREMELY GENTLE WHEN HANDLING IT!“_

_"No, no, y-you didn’t break it or anything.”_

_"then what’s with the tool box?“_

_"I n-need to give it a few upgrades. It’s been a few years, y'know?”_

_Papyrus relaxed. He and his brother watched in interest as Alphys unscrewed a panel on the back of the machine he had retrieved from her underground lab, then began to fiddle and work away at the wires inside._

_"I DON’T BELIEVE YOU EVER TOLD US THE PURPOSE OF THIS DEVICE, ALPHYS,“ Papyrus realized. "WHAT DOES IT DO?”_

_"it’s basically the same thing as the thing you use for their check-ups, ‘cept with a little more_ oomph _, right?“ Sans recalled._

_Alphys, after turning a locking mechanism that made one green wire into two, nodded. "B-Basically.”_

_As she fished out some kind of diagnostics device out of her tool box, Papyrus asked, “AND IT WILL TELL US WHAT WE WISH TO KNOW, YES?”_

_Alphys plugged the two halves of the wire into two ports on the diagnostics device, which then began running diagnostics and applying the updates she spoke of. At Papyrus’ inquiry, she frowned. “Well…it_ should _, w-with any l-”_

_"Hey. You got a bathroom in this place?“_

_The three monsters paused. Each frowning in differing levels of confusion, they all looked to where the question came from. "why do_ you _need a bathroom?”_

_From where he sat perched on the couch in front of the monitor monolith, Flowey returned their befuddled stares with a scowl. He then jerked his head to his right, signaling the others to turn their gazes that way._

_Frisk was still sitting opposite the flower, their legs curled up beneath them and their hands now currently wedged between their thighs. They were shifting uneasily in their seat, a look of discomfort, urgency, and slight embarrassment on their face._

_…Oh._

_As three faces smoothed over with realization, Alphys pointed toward the southeast part of the room. “Uh, d-down that hallway, third door on the left.”_

_Flowey’s scowl lessened, and he looked to the couch’s other occupant. “Got that, idiot?”_

_Frisk was already shedding the limited edition Mew Mew Kissy Cutie blanket Alphys had provided them, moving at an only slightly quicker pace than the sluggish one they had been using quite recently, and swinging their legs over the side of the-_

_"HALT, HUMAN!“_

_Frisk froze - though it looked like they_ really _didn’t want to - at Papyrus’ command. He marched straight to them, then hooked his hands under their armpits and lifted them up to his eye level. "YOU ARE STILL UNDER A WALKING BAN!” he chided. “HOWEVER, WORRY NOT! THE GREAT PAPYRUS SHALL ESCORT YOU STRAIGHT TO THE BATHROOM-”_

_Frisk gave him a look._

_"-THEN REMAIN AT LEAST TEN PACES AWAY FROM THE DOOR SO YOU CAN TAKE CARE OF YOUR, AHEM, 'BUSINESS’ IN PRIVACY! NYEH HEH!“_

_With that, Papyrus whisked Frisk away down the hallway Alphys directed them to. Frisk was just able to lift their hand to wave at the others before they disappeared into the corridor._

_Sans and Alphys had both raised their hands to return the attempted wave. They remained raised for a few seconds after Frisk had left their sights before one returned to a hoodie pocket, and the other to a diagnostics device._

_”…It’s b-best they take care of that now,“ Alphys said more to herself than to the skeleton beside her. "Even with these updates, th-the scanning process is d-definitely gonna take a while to complete.”_

_Sans shrugged. “guess that’s just how it goes, when it comes to understanding the ways of the soul.”_

_"Y…Yeah…“_

_Sans noticed the dip in her mood immediately, yet did not so immediately point it out. ”…what’d i say?“_

_Alphys was avoiding his gaze. After placing the smaller device on top of the larger, she circled around to the front of the scanner and silently flipped open a small compartment in which three thin wires sat coiled._

_Sans frowned. "alph, c'mon.” He went around to one side of the scanner and once again tried to catch her eye. “what did i say?”_

_Alphys managed to test and insure the integrity of one of the wires before finally succumbing under his pointed, worried stare. Her shoulders sank, and she deeply sighed._

_"It’s just…after all this time…and I_ still _don’t understand the 'ways of the soul’.“_

_Sans kept staring._

_"It w-was supposed to be why I was appointed the Royal Scientist in the first place,” she continued, staring down at her feet. “Because Asgore th-thought that, j-just because I built Mettaton’s body, that I would be able to f-figure out how to use the souls we had t-to free us from the Underground. Sounds l-like a major leap from making a fully functional robot capable of housing a ghost monster’s soul, doesn’t it? Spoiler warning: it was.”_

_Sans almost said something, but didn’t get the chance to._

_"I knew, from the start, I w-was in_ way _over my head. B-But I didn’t want to let everyone down, so I h-had to try. I poured months -_ years _even - of my life into researching souls. And look where that research ended up. Flowey, the Amalgamates…everything I ever did back then just ended in failure after failure after terrible_ failure _…“_

_”…alph-“_

_"Everyone was counting on me back then, and I failed them! F-Frisk is counting on me now! T-To find out what’s happening to their soul, even though I just_ barely _know anything about human souls! Their condition’s just gonna keep getting worse and worse until I find answers that’ll satisfy them into seeing a_ real _doctor! Given my track record, I’m just going to make everything worse and fail again-!”_

_"_ hey _.“_

_Sans grabbed her shaking shoulder, trying to steady it. Her whole body was still trembling as he turned her, putting his other hand on her other shoulder and trying to make her look him in the eye._

_"don’t do this to yourself, alph,” he consoled, his voice firm yet gentle. “yesterday’s failures don’t determine today’s outcomes, y'know?”_

_Still trembling, Alphys finally looked to him, lines of confusion wrinkling her brow._

_"…yeah i coulda worded that better,“ he admitted with a goofy grin. "what i’m trying to say is, yes, you’ve made mistakes in the past. but you learned from those mistakes and failures, and know what and what not to do. that’s what scientists do, right? they learn through trial and error, and make the world a better place from what they learn. sure, some of your failures were…” He awkwardly cleared his throat. “but you owned up to them, and made peace with them. so just because you failed back then doesn’t mean you’re gonna fail again now. right?”_

_Alphys’ tremors were calming, her face smoothing._

_Sans grinned, and took his hands off her shoulders. “so you don’t know everything about human souls; who does? ’s not exactly like there have been countless studies devoted to that particular branch of research; you had to forge your own way through unfamiliar territory no one’s ever mapped out before. failures aside, you’ve done a lot more to understand the nature of souls than anyone’s ever done before. you’re an expert in your own right; no one else comes_ close _to being in your league of genius, alphys.”_

_That last bit got Alphys to crack a tiny smile._

_Sans smiled back. “and, hey, it’s not like frisk is comin’ to you expecting you to have all the answers; you know the kid. they just want you to find out what you can, to the best of your abilities. and, really, that’s all anyone can do, right? start with what you already know, then work from there. and, if anything, you can take comfort in the fact that we’re not gonna let you tackle this problem alone.”_

_He gave her one of his signature grin and wink combos. “not anymore.”_

_Alphys stared at him for a minute, then giggled and wiped her eyes on her coat sleeve. “Y-Yeah, y-you’re right.” She sniffled, then straightened herself. “Yesterday’s failures d-don’t determine today’s outcomes.”_

_Before anything else could be said, the diagnostics device trilled, and its screen started flashing. Sans retrieved it from its perch, looking it over thoughtfully. “i’m guessing that means it’s done?”_

_"Yup!“ Alphys nodded. "C-Could you finish uncoiling these wires while I f-finish with that?”_

_"sure thing.“_

_The two switched places, the small, tablet-like device passing between their hands. As Sans carried out his appointed task, Alphys detached the diagnostics tool from the two halves of the green wire, reattached and locked them together. She then screwed the panel back on, then walked around to the other side of the scanner, where Sans was still carefully unrolling the last two wires._

_”…Thank you, Sans.“_

_The skeleton shrugged. "no prob, alph. the trick’s all in the wrist-”_

_"N-No, I mean,_ thank you _. F-For helping me calm down, b-before I got worse.“_

_Sans paused, then repeated, far more genuinely, "no prob, alph.”_

_Alphys smiled, chuckling a little to herself. “Y'know, Undyne’s usually the only one who’s able to d-do that for me. That quickly, at least.” She gave Sans an innocently curious look. “When did you get so good at that, Sans?”_

_The last of the wires were straightened. Sans straightened, too, then looked over at her. He said nothing for a while._

_"…let’s just say-“ He turned his head a little, looking off past her. ”-i’ve learned by trial and error, too.“_

_Before she could ask him to elaborate on that, the sound of approaching footsteps alerted her to a returning presence. She turned to the noise, finding herself looking in the same direction Sans had been staring, to find Papyrus returning, Frisk curled up in his arms. He seemed to be walking much more slowly than he had before, a look of caution and unease about him._

_This gave her pause for concern. "Did…d-did something happen?”_

_Papyrus stopped in front of the couch, staring down at the child in his arms as his look of unease became more pronounced. “…THEY THREW-UP AGAIN.”_

_Sans and Alphys grimaced._

_"ALSO, THOUGH I MUST ADMIT MY LACK OF SKIN DOES NOT MAKE ME AN EXPERT ON THE SUBJECT-“ The tall skeleton knelt down and, very gently, placed the child he carried back on the couch. ”-WHEN I ESCORTED THEM TO THE BATHROOM, THEY FELT VERY WARM. UPON OUR RETURN TRIP, THEY FELT QUITE COLD TO ME.“_

_Alphys started at that. She crossed over to the couch, then laid a hand against Frisk’s forehead. True enough, she felt a chill from their skin, which looked paler than before._

_"Your temperature’s fluctuating,” she whispered, more to herself than to anyone else. Nonetheless, that statement got Frisk to look up at her, exhaustion written everywhere on their face._

_Their gazes met. Both of them were pleading, to certain degrees. But it was the determination burning behind Frisk’s eyes that won out, in the end._

_Alphys sighed inwardly. The sooner she got this over with, the sooner Frisk would get the proper medical care they needed. At that point, she decided that, if this was going to become a regular thing with them, that she should invest time in the future to studying human pediatrics._

_For now, it was time to get to work. “Sans, could you-”_

_Sans was already bringing the scanner over to where everyone else had gathered, predicting what she was going to ask of him. He left it beside one arm of the couch, then walked over to Alphys to give her the wires, and Frisk a look-over, his brow creasing in sympathy._

_"Right. Okay. Frisk-“ Wires in hand, Alphys turned back to Frisk. ”-since you’re not feeling well, I’m n-not gonna have you keep your soul exposed while we carry out this p-procedure. With these, w-we’re taking a more…indirect method of reaching your soul. Could you please lift up your shirt for me?“_

_Frisk stared at her for a moment, then slowly turned to Sans and Papyrus. They gave the two of them a look, a slight blush rising in their cheeks._

_Sans elbowed Papyrus before turning around. Papyrus, taking the hint, shot up to his feet and did an about face. Even Flowey - after receiving the same look - turned away, but not before giving Frisk an exaggerated eye-roll._

_Being given as much privacy as could be given in this situation, Frisk hesitantly obeyed the doctor’s orders, allowing her to strategically attach the three wires, via clear, sticky pads, to their chest, right about the center of their sternum. They put their shirt back down, and Alphys recovered them with her blanket before walking back to the scanner. Once there, she took a deep, steadying breath._

_This was it. Now or never._

_And given the circumstances, 'never’ wasn’t even an option._

_"I’m going to start it up now. You’re gonna feel a little…well, I’m not exactly sure what you’re gonna feel.”_

\----   

She was right about one thing, at least:

Frisk’s condition was getting worse.

 

> _writer's note:[listening recommendation](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OyHqveZk8Dk)_

 

Whereas they only had minor difficulties walking before, they couldn’t even stand now without needing her for support. In their trek to rejoin the others, they had to pause several times because Frisk would suddenly be overcome with dizziness. Their body was rejecting even the smallest sip of water, the tiniest taste of nourishment. Blood was being ejected from their body from orifices it should never come out from; no longer in drops and splatters, but in much greater volumes. They didn’t just look smaller, they  _were_  smaller. Her hands always met whenever she hugged them, but if she were to wrap her arms completely around them now, her hands would reach her elbows, and then some.

Their body mass had significantly, drastically lessened.

They were slowly wasting away. Right in front of her eyes.

And the worst part of it was, with everything that had been revealed through recordings of a forgotten era, there was no way she’d be able to get them to seek out professional medical help.

…At least, not until she revealed the conclusions she had reached.

She had one hand on the small of their back, the other on their shoulder as she led them. A Thundersnail racer under pressure would’ve outraced the two of them at the pace they were trudging across the lab complex. The others were no longer in the room of many beds; they had regrouped to the place Sans had secluded himself to after he attacked the flower Frisk was currently carrying in their arms. She had considered, briefly, to offer to take him of their hands, so they could focus more on walking than keeping a hold on him. She even offered to carry them herself.

But they insisted on walking themself. And knowing Frisk, after everything that just went down, there was no way they were going to let anyone that close to Flowey again.

One last corner turned, and their destination was finally within reach. Past the mechanical double doors, opened a long time ago during Frisk’s last time in the True Lab, the first sight to greet them was of Toriel, sitting restlessly on a three-seated bench; the kind often found in hospital waiting rooms. Past her, staring languidly at one of the two fake plants, stood Asgore. As they entered the room proper, Undyne was found leaning against the wall beside the wall-mounted screen that labeled the heavy metal doors beside it as the entrance to the Power Room, her arms crossed over her chest and a dark, deeply thoughtful look on her face. Papyrus stood near the wall opposite to Toriel, his posture slack and his expression forlorn and dejected; it was strange and unnerving to see him look so unlike his usual, confident self. As for his brother…

Sans had found himself a chair, it seemed. He sat in it backwards, facing the room’s other fake plant with his arms crossed and laid on top of the chair’s back. He had his hood up and the lower half of his face against his arms; that made it hard to gauge his mood. But judging by the way his dim pupils stared vacantly into the middle distance, it had not improved at all.

He was the only one who didn’t look up when Alphys returned with Frisk.

Everyone stared at the child in varying degrees of concern and grief; it was obvious to them, too, how much their condition had plummeted. Toriel rose from her seat to meet them halfway, and was quick yet careful to take Frisk back into her arms. Immediately she noticed how their skin was pale and cold as winter, and her expression broke to realize she could not offer her sick child even the smallest touch of relief.

She was holding back tears as she returned to her seat, keeping Frisk close as she sat them across her lap, the side of their head against her chest. Asgore approached them and, after receiving no objections from his ex-wife, bent down and laid his large palm against the other side of their head, his thumb slowly, gently stroking through their hair.

Alphys watched the scene from where she remained standing at the end of the corridor she just emerged from, barely feeling her wife’s hand on her shoulder because of how lost in thought she had become.

She knew what was happening to them. She _thought_  she knew. She had almost told Frisk that much, but chose not to. She couldn’t afford to doubt herself anymore.  _Frisk_  couldn’t afford for her to doubt herself anymore. Not when they were this close to the point of no return.

She had to be confident.

She had to be sure.

_“start with what you already know, then work from there.”_

So she started with a confession.

"I don’t know enough about human physiology to determine if everything that’s happened is the cause of Frisk’s illness.“

It was hard to tell if her quiet confession lifted or further dampened the already sullen atmosphere surrounding everyone.

”…But I  _do_  know it’s not helping them get any better.“

She straightened herself and fixed her face. After giving Unyne’s hand a squeeze, she went around to the other side of her and booted up the screen on the wall. It read 'POWER ROOM’ before she pressed a button that made the words blink out, the screen go dark. From the side of the screen’s edge, she produced what looked like a tablet pen, which proved to be just that as she pressed its tip against the screen, and began to draw.

"From what I’ve surmised from Dr. Gaster’s records-” It felt weird to say his name aloud, like the word was a physical manifestation she had to chew on a bit to get out. “-the last project he was working on - the time machine, we’ll call it - backfired. It erased him from our memories, from reality, from existence itself. But, if what’s been happening in the here and now gives us anything to go on, it’s that…somehow…he’s still alive.”

She finished her first illustration, which was a pixelated rendition of a familiar, unfathomably smiling, mask-like face. That there was now a name to go with that face didn’t change how the gathered felt about it in the slightest.

"…How?“ Undyne asked, a growl in her voice. "How can he still be around if he doesn’t exist anymore?”

"My theory,“ Alphys answered without looking up, "is that he was right about what he assumed the 'anomaly’ was.” Around the cracked face, she drew a series of lines that differed in length. “He built his time machine for the purpose of opening a way to what he called, 'a pocket dimension outside of time and space where offshoot timelines congregate’. When his plan backfired, it…”

She paused, trying to find the words to best simplify what she believed happened. “It must’ve…given him much more 'access’ to the anomaly than he bargained for.”

She paused again, doing a quick look around to see if she needed to give a better explanation than that.

"…SO YOU ARE SAYING…HE IS  _TRAPPED_  IN THIS…TIMELINE GRAVEYARD?“

A morbid way of putting it, but Papyrus hit the nail on the head. "B-Basically,” Alphys was hesitant to confirm, “yes.”

Papyrus’ posture seemed to further slump. He looked unsure of how he should feel about this. Beside him, Sans, on the contrary, remained exactly as he was.

"… _and_  no.“

Papyrus straightened a little. Sans didn’t even flinch.

”…Well yeah,“ Undyne muttered, sounding struck by an epiphany. "He can’t be  _completely_  trapped in that place, right? He wouldn’t be able to cause all the mayhem happening here in our timeline if he was! Unless…can he  _do_ that? I mean, he’s somewhere where timelines go to die; is he able to influence those timelines before they do? But our timeline isn’t dying, right?? So he shouldn’t- But he is- And then- Urrrgh!”

With that groan, Undyne dropped her face into one hand, and massaged her temples with her middle finger and thumb.

"Timelines, timelines, timelines,“ she growled bitterly. "Number one migraine-inducer of the decade.”

Alphys found herself chuckling softly at this. “Agreed.”

Undyne gave her a thin smile, and continued trying to rub her headache away.

"…Is it possible, Dr. Alphys? Is Dr. Gaster able to influence other timelines from where he is?“

Succeeding in getting her back on track, Alphys glanced Asgore’s way. "From what we’ve seen, he is. To s-some degree, at least.”

Asgore’s gaze shifted to the floor. He looked thoughtful.

"…But I doubt he was always able to.“ Alphys turned back to the screen, and clicked a button on the pen in her hand. "We would have, erm, 'heard’ from him sooner if he was.”

"…HOW CAN YOU BE CERTAIN OF THAT?“ humbly inquired Papyrus. "IS IT NOT POSSIBLE THAT HE HAS REACHED OUT TO US BEFORE, BUT DURING A DIFFERENT TIMELINE? ONE THAT WE DO NOT RECALL?”

Her sights focused on the screen, Alphys shrugged. “It’s possible, sure.”

"Then how can you be certain he has only been able to influence the timelines only recently?“ Asgore pressed.

After completing another illustration, Alphys answered, "Because of the save points.”

Up until now, her drawings had all been the same murky green. The button she had clicked on her pen was to cycle through the three different color settings the screen had, so her most recent illustration, a four-pointed star with inwardly-curved edges, was colored a muted yellow.

"A while back,“ she explained, "Sans and I theorized that the save points were small, localized tears in the fabric of spacetime, visible only to those with a large amount of determination. We later theorized that they were directly connected with the barrier, which is why they started to disappear after it was destroyed. I’ve never seen one for myself before, but now that I have…this is why I’m certain Dr. Gaster hasn’t been able to influence other timelines until, relatively speaking, recently.

"Because the save points reflected the current state of time and space in the Underground.”

She could feel several stares of confusion boring holes into the back of her head. She did not use the pen to write more on the screen, but moved her hand as though writing in the air. “We’ve all seen how a save point behaves; the way it’s always shifting, never staying still. They were tears - literal tears - in spacetime. If spacetime was in a peaceful state, then wouldn’t the save points also have looked calmer? Or, you know, not even be there at all?”

She felt the confusion slowly begin to morph into revelation.

"There was…another interpretation for what the 'anomaly’ was. That it was some sort of entity that made timelines jump left and right, start and stop, until, suddenly, everything ends. That remind you of anything?“

The answer came almost immediately. "The resets.”

Alphys nodded at Asgore without fully looking at him. “When the resets started, it threw spacetime into disarray and chaos. If Dr. Gaster  _was_  able to influence a timeline during that period of turbulence, it would have been insanely difficult. Hard to navigate through a hurricane without any maps or navigational tools to guide you, y'know?

"That’s why I’m positive Dr. Gaster hasn’t been able to influence any timelines until the barrier was destroyed, the rips in spacetime healed, and the resets stopped.”

Alphys, in a moment of pleasant surprise, found that she was smiling at herself. The evidence was there. The theory was sound. She had explained it all in confidence and in a simple enough manner that no one got lost. With every failure under her belt, every victory - no matter how small - was one she’d never pass up on counting.

"SO…HOW DOES HE DO IT? HOW IS HE ABLE TO INFLUENCE OTHER TIMELINES?“

As Alphys’ smile fell away, so did the high her tiny victory brought.

”…That’s…where……Frisk comes in.“

She felt almost every gaze shift away from her. She clicked her pen once more, cycling it to the last color so the heart she drew on the screen was a grainy red.

"Frisk-” Though she was addressing them directly, she wasn’t yet brave enough to even look their way yet. “-you know how I’ve worked with determination during my time as the most recent Royal Scientist. I used to extract it from the human souls we already had, and injected it into monsters that had fallen down, all in hopes that their souls would survive after they died, so we wouldn’t have to wait for another human to fall.

"You know the moral of this story: magic and determination do not mix well, if at all. Maybe that’s why none of us monsters have ever seen, let alone known about the save points until you told us about them; we weren’t 'determined’ enough. It makes me wonder…if any of the other humans had enough to resolve to change fate.

"But  _you_ , Frisk.” She stared at the little pixel heart on the screen, shook her head in amazement. “Even without what remained of Chara’s…your soul is more full of determination than I’ve  _ever_  seen in one living being before. It allowed you to harness the power of the save points. It allowed you to turn back the clock. To cheat death itself!”

Alphys took a deep breath that shuddered in the exhale, a heavy weight growing in her chest. “I-I know…you had no control over it. That it used you more than you used it. Th-That 'someone else’…controlled your actions most of the time you sp-pent down here. B-But the fact r-remains…that you were just so full of determination…that wh-when you died…”

There was definitely a better way to say this. A more gentle way to break the news to them. She had learned a long time ago to have a better bedside manner than this.

But she had to be blunt. She could not sugarcoat it or beat around the bush. Had to get straight to the point. Needed to let them know the severity of their situation.

With another deep breath, she steeled herself, turned, and informed her patient in a small, firm voice:

"It wouldn’t let the timeline continue without you.“

She knew this statement would elicit reactions from the others (in fact she could hear some of them right after she said it). But there was only one person’s reaction she cared about seeing right now, so her eyes did not wander even a centimeter away from Frisk’s face as her words sank in.

Frisk was staring right back at her, a dull, detached look about them. It gave of a 'what else is new?’ kind of vibe.

But as they broke away from her gaze, eyes falling to the tile floor between the two of them, that facade crumbled. Just enough so that she caught the grief and self-loathing lying beneath peek through the cracks.

Alphys watched Toriel hold them closer in response to their reaction. She swallowed back a lump in her throat, and slowly turned back to face the screen before any more exposure to the heartbreaking scene made her cry.

"A-And that’s…n-not…th-the worst of it.”

Ignoring the noises of disbelief she heard, she proceeded to erase a part of the pixel heart; a zigzag line right down the middle, making it appear broken in half.

"When you died, a timeline would end.“ Switching to green, she drew a line. "When you reset, a new one would start.” She repaired the heart, then drew another green line. “Several times, this cycle repeated. Creating countless incomplete timelines that further spurned the turbulence in spacetime.”

It was slowly breaking her heart to continue, but she had more bad news to deliver. “With everything that happened back on the surface, I’ve come to realize it’s much worse than that.”

Using her pen, she moved the two most recent lines she had drawn, then drew more. “When we saw your memories of the other timelines, I couldn’t understand why they were causing you so much pain. I mean, remembering a whole lot of things from your past all at once can be painful, but it shouldn’t be life-threatening! I didn’t know then what was causing it, but now I know…why your soul almost ripped itself apart back then.”

She pulled the pen away from the screen, her unblinking eyes staring forlornly at her most recently completed illustration.

"Your timelines…never died. They’re still connected to you.  _Bound_  to the determination that fills your soul.“

She had drawn several more green lines as she had spoken, making them all look like they were all coming out of one shared point. All she had drawn was a heart with lines coming out of it.

What she saw, and what she was sure the others were seeing as well…was a soul in chains.

”……And Dr. Gaster uses those connections to 'reach out’ to you.“

As she spoke, Alphys began to erase the 'chains’, one at a time. "You told us that when you slept, and he…” She filled in the blanks with a throat-clearing cough. “The only thing you could remember was that you had been dreaming about something. From what I gather, you’re not just dreaming…you’re revisiting a memory of the past. Re- _living_  it, I should say.”

Only one green line remained. She turned it horizontal so that it stretched between two symbols on the screen: the 'heart’ and the 'mask’.

"Your timelines are still connected to you, b-but they’re also still in the 'anomaly’, where Dr. Gaster is.“ Selecting the heart, she began moving it, slowly, toward the other end of the line. "As you relive a memory, the timeline it’s from holds the most powerful pull on your soul, more than the others will. As you delve deeper and deeper into that timeline, remained focused on that one memory from it…”

She recalled the last images that had appeared on the monitor monolith before it all came crashing down: the distortions, the darkness, the hand appearing out of  _nothing_ ; and finally understood what had taken place.

After making one symbol stop halfway down the line, she moved the other - quickly - to where the first stopped, and placed the second on top of the first. “It makes it easier for Dr. Gaster to overshadow you.”

The longer she stared at her rendition of what she theorized, the more another horrid realization surfaced.

"That’s how…you got hurt,“ she confessed in a constricted voice, her sinking shoulders shaking. "I th-thought…I thought he was c-completely there wh-when he possessed you, wh-when I t-tried to pinpoint his exact location i-in your soul. Th-This is what I meant, wh-when I s-said he both is and i-isn’t trapped in the anomaly. When he o-overshadows you, only a s-small part of him is ab-ble to reach through and b-be seen by us, wh-while the rest of him r-remains in the anomaly. A-A-And when I tried…t-to locate him…”

She sniffled loudly and hugged herself. “I…I searched t-too broadly. I reached back int-to a place I d-didn’t understand. I b-b-bit off more th-than I could chew and because of my mistake you almost… _I_  almost..!”

She felt herself turned then found her face against Undyne’s stomach. That muffled the sounds of her quiet sobs as her wife’s arms circled around her, kept her close, comforted her.

"………What about me?“

Alphys hadn’t been crying for very long when the question caught her off-guard. Hiccuping, she un-buried her face and looked to where Frisk sat curled in Toriel’s lap, staring at the potted flower in their arms.

"Why am I the only one who understands him,” Flowey continued, “when all you guys here is static?”

Alphys saw a few expressions turn sour; now  _wasn’t_  the time to shift the conversation to him of all people. Alphys’ didn’t. When she heard the humility in his tone, the genuine attempt to sound genuine…and she was silently grateful to her creation for getting her back on track.

"…I w-wondered that, t-too. B-But after we-“ She stole a glance at Sans, who had not budged an inch or changed his expression even once since she had returned. ”… _learned_  ab-bout your resets, th-the reason we hear static when Dr. Gaster is n-near is because of our inability t-to influence time.“

Before the looks of confusion could start boring into her, she elaborated (no longer feeling like drawing on the screen), "Flowey, you have your own set of timelines you’ve stopped and started, b-but you’re not as connected to them as Frisk is because y-you have no soul. N-Nonetheless, there’s still a connection b-between you and the anomaly. B-By proxy, all th-three of you - Flowey, Frisk, Dr. Gaster - share a connection. And as f-for the rest of us, those unable to reset or r-remember the other timelines…”

She trailed off, and found herself looking off to the distance, recalling words spoken by her predecessor before any of them even knew he was her predecessor.

"…It must take Dr. Gaster a lot of energy to reach out to us from where he is. He’s crossing the boundaries of time and space to reach our timeline from a place existing outside the confines of time and space. For those of us without the power to alter time, to try and hear his voice reaching from across those boundaries…“

Alphys frowned, and slowly shook her head. "We just cannot comprehend it. So all we hear is the static.”

"It still does not explain what he  _wants_  with Frisk!“

From the tone of her voice, Toriel had been keeping this bottled up for a long time. Lines of anger were creasing her face, but as her words continued to hang in the air, she made the attempt to smooth those lines, but ended up grimacing instead.

Alphys, too, grimaced.

”…No,“ she loathed to agree. "It doesn’t.”

Unwarily, she found herself looking back to the screen, to the pixel illustrations she had created upon it. She had decided to use visuals during her explanations, not only to help the others understand her reasoning, but also to help herself make sense of how all the puzzle pieces fit together. With Toriel’s last statement, every comprehension and conclusion reached felt little more than hollow victories.

The 'what’ had been answered.

So had the 'how’.

But even with every shred of evidence gathered and given fit perfectly together, one last box - undoubtedly the most important one of all - remained unchecked:

_Why_?

"…You can just ask him yourself.“

Alphys winced. Undyne’s arm tensed around her. Papyrus straightened. Both Toriel and Asgore stiffened.

Sans’ pupils vanished.

Alphys whipped around, eyes wide in alarm. Yes, they had the opportunity for such an 'interview’. But for that to be arranged, what needed to happen first was…

"Frisk,  _no_.” Undyne spoke before Alphys could, saying the exact words that were on the tip of her tongue. “Just no.”

But Frisk was already crawling their way out of Toriel’s embrace.

"YOU…TH-THERE IS NO NEED FOR YOU TO TAKE SUCH MEASURES, FRISK!“ Papyrus took a step forward, a friendly yet shaky smile on his face. "THERE-THERE MUST BE ANOTHER WAY TO CONTACT HIM! WE SIMPLY NEED TO FIND IT AND USE THAT INSTEAD!!”

But Frisk was already planting their feet on the floor, swaying only a little before regaining their balance and-

"My child.“

Toriel caught them by the arm, her fingers closing around it and meeting all the way to the last row of knuckles.

"You need not subject yourself to this,” she told them, firmness in her voice yet pleading in her eyes. “We will find another way to make contact with the doctor. One that will not involve subjugating yourself to his-”

"Just make sure he gives you a straight answer.“

It was as if the statement had stolen her voice. Her mouth hung open, shallow breaths passing through it as her expression was overtaken by heartbreak.

They all knew that tone of voice well. It was the one they used whenever they decided something, and no one nor nothing was going to make them change their mind. There was an immense amount of finality in it when they used that tone of voice.

But it was the look in their eyes that coupled it now what really disarmed her and the others so thoroughly.

Frisk’s eyes held no one else’s, staring emptily at nothing in particular. There was no sadness in them, nor anger, nor even the faintest hint of bitterness. Just…resignation. Acceptance to comply, no matter their own personal objections.

This was the look of someone who, for far too long, never had a choice.

Their arm slipped slowly out of Toriel’s grasp with little resistance. They walked away, her hand still reaching for theirs, past a stunned stiff Asgore, towards the southern corridor. They stopped at the wall, to catch their breath and rest a moment (another dizzy spell, perhaps?), before they continued, and made their final stand right at the center point where the room narrowed into the hallway, their front turned away from everyone gathered in the room behind them.

Alphys clutched the front of her lab coat, the corners of her mouth trembling. She wanted so badly to tell them to stop, that she would find another way to reach the doctor without the need for Frisk to do it themself. But the tone in their voice and the look in their eyes seemed to have stolen her voice, too. And in her muteness, another realization had come to her.

To search for and open another path to making contact with the doctor, she would need time. And with the child’s health on a steep decline…time was something that could no longer be afforded.

Though it pained her deeply to agree with Frisk’s philosophy, this was the quickest, easiest… _only_  way to get the answers they so desperately needed.

\----

Both of Frisk’s arms were wrapped tightly around Flowey’s pot, holding him in place. Their back to the others, Flowey watched them close their eyes, take a deep breath through their nose…then end up regretting it when it aggravated their airways and made them cough inside their mouth.

Way to go, idiot.

Their fit subsiding, it left them shivering and looking even paler than ever. They grimaced as they swallowed, then more carefully regulated their breathing.

Flowey watched them studiously. As their breathing slowed, their trembles lessened, the lines of strain aging their complexion ironed out. More and more, they gave the appearance of having fallen asleep while standing.

It made him wonder what memory they’d chosen. What past timeline they were reliving to reach someone who both did and didn’t exist. He also wondered how long this… _séance_  would have to go on before they found him. Or he found them.

He was too absorbed in his pondering to notice when it first started. When he  _did_  realize the warmth of breath was no longer caressing him, he snapped his head up, and found a completely immobile statue holding him.

”…Frisk?“

Frisk’s body began to fall forward.

"H-Hey-!!”

In the room past him, he heard several bodies move to stand, or dash forward. But there was no need for that; Frisk had caught themself at the very last possible moment.

…Or…

Rather…

The presence announced by a fanfare of static had.

It had made the lights flicker. Both wall-mounted screen and nearby vending machine lost power before groaning back to life. Frisk’s head was turned low, their hair obscuring their face from an alarmed Flowey. The rest of their body had become hunched and rigid; it didn’t look at all comfortable.

The hiss of static persisted. It grew deeper in pitch as Frisk’s head slowly lifted.

And though their hair moved out of the way, their face was still completely obscured.

Flowey grimaced.

The static changed pitch again as Frisk’s body began to turn counter-clockwise. The squeak of their bare feet not lifting fully off the tile floor accented their pirouette, and as they completed their one-eighty, another layer of static - one more articulated, and one he alone could hear a voice filtering through - added to the layers of disharmony.

He interpreted it without thinking. Without being prompted or demanded to by the others. The words were comprehended and flowed out of his mouth without hesitance. Using the voice he had used in previous times to signify these words weren’t his own, he asked the six monsters gathered in the room before him,

" _Don’t you know it’s rude to talk about someone who’s listening?_ “

 

> _writer's note:[listening recommendation](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PyxujwLLJW0)_

 

The others were either halfway out of their seats or frozen in a step forward. Save for a certain trashbag’s, all eyes were focused on the face currently worn by the person carrying him in their tight, rigid grasp. Though each of their individual expressions differed, though some made more of an attempt to hide it than others, each person gathered around them all shared the same strain of unease.

”…So, it is true.“

Being one counted among those not doing a good job at hiding their unease, Asgore rose to full height, not once straying his gaze away from the 'impostor’ he spoke to.

"You… _are_ …Doctor W.D. Gaster.”

The response was not immediate, but when it came, Flowey chose not to include in his interpretation the dry, bittersweet chuckle that preceded it. Surely, that was something the others could understand all by themselves.

" _Or what’s left of him, Your Majesty._ “

Asgore was not the only one whom this confirmation made grimace.

"W…W-W-Wait.”

The weight of Gaster’s gaze shifted, as did most everyone else’s, onto his successor. Alphys winced under it, her shaking claws clutching so tightly to the front of her lab coat she was no doubt puncturing holes through the fabric. Still trembling like a Chihuahua, she gulped hard and steeled her courage.

"Be…Bef-fore we g-go any further,“ she stammered, her earlier confidence smothered by her anxiousness. "I th-think it’d be b-best if, D-Dr. Gaster, i-i-if you c-could give us a s-sign? O-Or something? If at a-any point F-Flowey d-doesn’t repeat to us e-exactly what y-you say? D-Does that s-sound good you, Dr. G-Gaster?”

Flowey scowled at Alphys, but knew he had no right to complain. In fact, he thought it smart of her to be so paranoid around him; who wouldn’t after finding out about all the mayhem he’d caused?

More static indicated he wasn’t the only one to think so.

" _A wise suggestion, Dr. Alphys. I will be sure to do just that, should the need arise. However._ “

Not only did the improbable gaze shift, but Frisk’s head turned down, making both Gaster’s hollow sockets and his all-encompassing presence bore into the flower’s face.

Needless to say, it made Flowey wince.

” _I’m sure our mutual friend here knows better than to make such attempts at deception at this point. Doesn’t he?_ “

Sweat formed along Flowey’s brow as he repeated these words, his face grimacing in queasiness. He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to, but he gave the 'mask’ a firm nod of understanding. It still took a while before he was no longer crushed under the weight of Gaster’s gaze, and threat.

"Glad we got  _that_  out of the way!”

The impatience in Undyne’s voice prompted several to look her way, finding her with both hands clenched into fists and her lips curled back over her long, sharp teeth. “Now, since you’re feeling  _sooo_  chatty all of a sudden,” she snarled, pointing an accusing finger straight at Gaster’s face. “You’re not going  _anywhere_  until you give us some answers,  _Doc_. And I mean  _real_ answers; not some evasive riddles or, or another field trip to more of your home horror movie collection that left us with more questions than the answers you  _swore_  we would find!”

She curled her finger and threw the side of her fist against the wall beside the screen, leaving a sizable dent in the metal. “Now  _start. Talking_.”

Gaster was unfazed by the show of strength, whereas others flinched at the sharp CRUNCH it made. After the noise stopped echoing, Frisk’s neck straightened, and the 'mask’ stared emptily at no one while Gaster’s presence seemed to fill the entire room.

" _As you wish,_ “ Flowey interpreted. ” _Although, I find it rather oxymoronic you demand me to stay, when you were the one that wanted me to 'piss off’, Captain._ “

Undyne’s lip curled back even further, and was only able to stomp forward one step before Alphys caught her arm and held her back.

Through the static, another dry chuckle was perceived. ” _Playful banter aside-_ “ Even Flowey highly doubted that qualified as 'playful’. ”- _what is it that you need me to clarify?_ “

When there were no immediate responses, Flowey looked to the others in disbelief. They finally had Gaster in a cooperative, talkative mood, and they had no idea what they wanted to ask him???

”…F-For starters-“ Thankfully, Alphys remembered at least one unanswered question only Gaster could answer. ”-d-did  _you_ …restart the Core?“

Gaster’s presence fell on her. ” _Yes. I restarted the Core._ “

"And that’s what’s causing all the weirdness down here?” Undyne asked next, her lip not quite as curled back as before.

" _In a manner of speaking, yes. It is causing the spacial distortions throughout the Underground you call 'the weirdness’._ “

”…Why?“

Asgore’s inquiry followed and preceded a pause. When Gaster next spoke, the static sounded hesitant.

” _It’s…complicated, Your Majesty. For simplicity’s sake, let’s just say that it was necessary, in order for me to be here and speak to you. As I am doing now._ “

A hybrid between a snort and a scoff came from Undyne. "And what a bang-up job you made of that, huh? All we hear when you 'speak’ to us is this  _goddamn_  static, and the only way you can 'be here’ is to hide like a  _coward_ behind a meat shield!”

Her outburst earned no remark from Gaster. He was quiet for a long time.

"That’s…because…y-you’re not really  _here_. Right?“

” _Correct,_ “ Flowey’s interpretation confirmed Alphys’ theory. ” _When my being was scattered across time and space, I was banished to oblivion, stripped from memory, lost to nonexistence. And yet, somehow, I remained. I exist, yet I do not exist. I am here, yet I am everywhere and nowhere_.“

Another dry, dark chuckle needed no translation. ” _A charmed life, if one could even call it a 'life’, don’t you think?_ “

No one had anything to say to this. At least half of them looked like they were going to be sick.

”…IS IT TRUE?“

This had been the first time, since Gaster’s arrival, that any noise came from the western half of the room. To look that way now, two skeletons remained side by side. One slumped in a chair and staring with empty sockets at the wall, the other on his feet, his shoulders shivering, and his holding-back-tears sockets staring straight at the 'masked’ individual across the way.

"THE TAPES WE WERE LEAD TO. THE CONTENTS OF YOUR RECORDINGS. ARE THEY ALL TRUE?” Papyrus’ shakes worsened with every statement, the more the chance increased that his skull was going to be dampened. “THE WORK YOU DID…THE THINGS YOU C…CREATED…THE FORGOTTEN PAST WE SH _ARED_..!”

His voice breaking, he shook his head and took a step forward. “IS IT REAL!? DID YOU  _MAKE_  US?! DID YOU NAME US?! DID YOU BUY OUR HOME IN SNOWDIN FOR US!? DID YOU RISK LOSING YOUR JOB FOR US!? DID YOU DEDICATE A PART OF YOUR LIFE TO TEACH US AND WATCH US GROW AND PROTECT US AND RAISE US AS YOUR OWN?!?!”

His voice shouted back at him in the form of echoes. His whole body shaking head to toe, his wet-with-tears skull slowly shook side to side.

"IS IT TRUE..?“ he repeated, his voice softer and more hoarse than before. "ARE YOU…OUR  _FATHER_?”

It was quite the rare sight to see Papyrus - the strong, proud, great Papyrus - broken down into a sniveling wreck. Quite the rare sight, indeed. Perhaps even rarer a sight still was that Sans wasn’t doing a single thing to try and comfort his grief-stricken brother. He hadn’t even twitched.

Save for the buzz that always seemed to accompany Gaster’s presence, the room was quiet for a long time. When he finally answered, the static sounded distant, like Gaster’s presence was avoiding lingering anywhere near the two brothers.

" _…You once saw me as such a figure. I leave it to you to decide if you still wish to think of me as one._ “

Papyrus’ shoulders nearly sank to the floor. Grimacing, he tightly shut his sockets (which in turn squeezed out more tears that rolled down his cheeks) and turned his skull to the floor.

Beside him, there was a rustle of fabric as one of Sans’ hands bunched the sleeve of his jacket.

”…'Sufficient insight to the knowledge we seek’.“

The voice spoke with patience worn thinner than tissue paper. It came from Toriel, who sat with her arms folded tightly across her chest and her head turned toward the floor. As gazes turned toward her, she continued speaking.

"You informed us that this is what we would find if we watched your journal entries, Dr. Gaster. We did as you suggested. We viewed every entry, and in the provided order, also per your suggestion. We have gained insight, but it has certainly  _not_  been a sufficient amount.”

She rose slowly from her chair, her arms still folded over her chest. She turned her head toward the southern corridor, her glare sharp and her eyes burning with fury only a mother could experience.

"You have conveniently left one incredibly important question of ours unanswered, Doctor.“ Her voice was thick with the authority of her former position as Queen. "And I should hope I need not spell it out any further to one once heralded to be the 'smartest monster in the Underground’.”

The weight of authority in her voice was crushing. The emotion in it spread. Soon, practically everyone shared the same look as she, yet none could match the intensity in hers. Flowey had wondered when they were going to get around to addressing that elephant; it was about time they did.

If Gaster was  _half_  as smart as he was once claimed to be, he would’ve answered his Queen without a second’s hesitation. When at least five passed without even a peep…Flowey didn’t think he’d be  _that_  stupid! He turned his stem to glare in judgement…then found something interesting going on with the face above him.

For every instance it had been around, the 'mask’ Frisk would wear whenever Gaster was present seemed to be just that: a mask. A completely immobile adornment meant to obscure the face of its wearer. It was not alive, it could not express anything; save for its fixed expression with that one half-closed eye and that unfathomable smile.

To look at it now, and sufficient proof was provided that this 'mask’ was more than just a mask.

The corners of the mouth were turning downward. That unfathomable smile was lessening. He wasn’t sure why, but Flowey was put under the assumption that, judging by how slowly it was moving, that making as mediocre a task as flexing a smile into something else was taking every ounce of Gaster’s concentration.

Gaster finally gave his answer as the mouth settled into a thin, even line. Flowey was sure that, even though the others could not hear his voice as he did, they could hear just how solemnly serious the doctor’s tone had become.

" _If I can make one thing abundantly clear in my sparsely allotted time, let it be this:_

" _ **I mean no harm to the child.**_ “

Flowey had been sure that, no matter how Gaster had answered, at least one person wasn’t going to be happy about it.

As it turned out, with this answer,  _no one_  was happy.

"And we’re just supposed to BELIEVE that?!” snapped Undyne, and it was unclear if the spear that appeared in her hand was summoned subconsciously or not. “Coming from the guy who VOLUNTEERED to pry the souls of others out of their  _cold, dead CHESTS!?!_ ”

"As I understand it-“ Toriel did not raise her voice like Undyne did, but it was because of that that made her much more intimidating. ”-you could have chosen any point in time after the barrier fell to overshadow my child.“

She uncrossed her arms and kept them at her sides, hands clenched into fists and the fire in her eyes burning ferociously. "That you should choose to do so now - when they have been made frail and weakened by illness - speaks  _volumes_  more of your intentions than your words do.”

"…I WANT TO BELIEVE YOU,“ Papyrus admitted, his voice small and his face still turned toward the ground. "TRULY, I DO. BUT…I MUST AGREE WITH TORIEL.”

There was still unease about him, but Papyrus’ face was set in stone-cold resolve as he turned it back up to glower at the 'face’ of his creator. “IF YOU ARE LYING, AND YOU  _DO_  INTEND TO HARM MY DEAR FRIEND AND SIBLING, THEN THAT IS SOMETHING I CANNOT, AND  _WILL_  NOT, ABIDE. NO MATTER WHAT YOUR RELATION IS TO ME.”

"The only thing you have made 'abundantly clear’ is how greatly you have contradicted yourself, Doctor.“ At full height, with his deep, burly voice rumbling with anger and authority, and it was easy to see the monster that had lead his armies into war behind Asgore’s soft, fluffy exterior. "And we will  _not_  tolerate any more deceptions and lies! As your King, I  _command_  you to tell us the truth!

"What do you  _want_  with Frisk?!”

"it’s not frisk he wants.“

That now would be the first time he had spoken since secluding himself was enough to smother the flames of fury burning within the others. What doused those flames completely were the words he chose to say.

"he doesn’t 'want’ frisk, not really,” Sans elaborated as several turned to stare at him. “they’re just a means to an end; a way to reach out from where he is to get to here. to what he’s  _really_  after.”

The others’ stares turned more dubious. “And…” cautiously ventured Alphys, “wh-what would…that be?”

Sans slowly closed his still pitch-black sockets. “me.”

"………… _You_?“

Flowey asked this in his own voice, which was thick with incredulity and just a hint of sarcasm. Self-absorbed, much?

"yup,” casually replied Sans. “me.”

"…Wh…What could possibly make you come to that conclusion, Sans?“

The skeleton shrugged. "i’ve just been thinkin’, tori. 'bout the last two tapes we watched. how i can’t remember ever bein’ on any of 'em.”

His sockets opened back up, his bony brow furrowing deeply over them. “…about what happened in the time between when they were recorded.”

A moment of searching was spent to recollect what he was talking about. Gaster remained still and quiet.

"something went down between that fight, and my message to my future self.“ Sans started rising from his chair, his uncovered mouth in an unsmiling line and his empty eyes boring holes into the corner of the room. "something big. something i can’t remember at all. something that erased the good doctor here from our memories…and existence itself.”

The realization came to everyone all at once. “Th-The time machine.”

Sans nodded off-handedly, his hands going into his hoodie pockets and his brow furrowing more deeply. “something happened to it; past-me said as much. he also said it was left in shambles, and that everyone else that had been there was gone. not gone, but  _gone_  gone. after the disagreements thrown back and forth in the previous tape…”

His sockets closed, and a grim chuckle left his mouth. “heh heh, why do i think i’m the one you’re after, doc?”

He let the question hang in the air for a while. When no one prompted him to continue, least of all Gaster, Sans turned his head toward the southern corridor, and hollow socket met hollow socket.

"'cuz  _i’m_  the reason you’re not around anymore. aren’t i?“

Where once had been flames was replaced by a chill colder than the frozen north.

Gaster remained silent.

"What…?” Toriel gaped, her eyes growing wide. “You…You  _what_?”

"…course, i got no memories of the event to confirm if that’s really what went down,“ Sans clarified, "but the evidence is pretty overwhelming, don’t'cha think? the argument we had before. how against the project i was. how freaked out i was afterwards. the fact that i seem to be the only one who still  _exists_.”

Judging by the look on everyone else’s faces, they were slowly coming to understand how he had reached this conclusion. Not that they were accepting it as he had, of course. “SANS-”

"past-me said he tried to stop you. that  _i_  tried to stop you. but i didn’t just 'stop’ you, did i?“ His glare hardened, his sockets somehow becoming even darker. "i  _permanently_  stopped you, didn’t i?”

Gaster still would not speak.

"but now you’re back, and for what? for revenge? to torment me?? to _use_ the kid to get to me???“

Frisk’s head slowly turned away from-

” _answer me you SON OF A BITCH!_ “

He was there in an instant. Even with his shortcuts benched, Sans could really move a lot faster than others gave him credit for when he put his mind to it. His hood thrown off, his left socket ablaze, Sans now stood right in front of Frisk’s body, his hands tightly gripping the front of their shirt, and held them so close his anger-warped face and the 'mask’ were only inches apart.

"you’re angry at me for what happened to you! you want to make me pay for what i did to you! then go ahead! make me pay! just don’t use frisk to do it! they have  _nothing_  to do with what happened between us! quit hiding behind them! your beef’s with  _me_! so take it out on  _me_  and  _leave frisk out of this you SICK BASTARD-_!”

" _SANS_!!“

The sharp, heartbroken tone of his brother’s voice seemed to make Sans come to his senses. The flame in his eye extinguished, his scowl smoothed somewhat, and his breath caught in his throat. Judging by the look now on his face, he was only now aware of the fact that he had been shaking Frisk back and forth so hard, he’d turned them into a bobble-head.

His hands were trembling as he, slowly, released the collar of their shirt. And not just because of the strange, draining atmosphere surrounding the person he stood before.

”…leave…“ His voice was constricted with emotion. ”…them…“ With heavy, unsteady steps, he stumbled backwards, not once looking away from the 'face’ of his creator. ” _out of this_ …“

He walked into his brother, who caught and held him before he could drop to the floor. His breathing hitched and uneven, Sans squeezed his eyelids shut and dropped his face into one hand, his whole body quaking with every breath he heaved.

If this was his plan, Flowey really had to take his hat off to Gaster. There was no way Sans would  _ever_  want to purposefully hurt Frisk; the same went for everyone else here. If he was here to torment Smiley Trashbag, using the kid as his meat puppet was a stroke of ingenuity!

…Of course…with no word of confirmation from Gaster (or any word at all!), there was still no way of knowing if that was truly what he was after.

Gaster remained silent as Frisk’s head settled. He remained silent for a long amount of time after that. The longer he remained silent, the harder the others stared and leered and glared at his 'face’, patience wearing thinner and thinner until it was completely transparent.

Only then did the doctor finally speak again, the static sounding level.

“ _…I understand it would be too much for me to ask you to be satisfied by that testimony alone. You deserve better than that. But, to give the in-depth explanation you deserve, for me to stay like this for too prolonged a time, would endanger everyone here. Frisk and I, especially. And, as I cannot stress enough, I do not wish to see the child come to harm because of me._ ”

The sourness that entered most everyone’s expression proved they still doubted the veracity of that last statement.

"So we’re just supposed to  _accept_  that?“ Undyne hissed. "That you’re  _never_ gonna tell us what it is that you want with Frisk?? If that’s the case, then you  _really_  need to piss off this time and  _NEVER_  come ba-”

" _I never said that was your only option._ “

Undyne flinched, hers and several other’s eyes widening.

” _I might have another way,_ “ interpreted Flowey, his eyes also widening, ” _to relay to you what you need to know._ “

For the first time in hours, the spark of hope was re-kindled.

” _However, for that to transpire…_ “ Frisk’s body straightened a little, and turned a few degrees to their right. ” _I must ask you to, once again, come with me._ “

Before anyone else could say anything, Frisk’s body moved forward, doing that slow, graceless, feet-never-completely-leaving-the-ground shuffle it did whenever Gaster was the one calling the shots.

They moved forward a few paces before Toriel asked, voice thick with skepticism, "And where, pray tell, are you leading us to this time?”

Frisk’s body stopped halfway between their starting point, and the thick metal double doors beside the vending machine. “ _The Core._ ”

Though the only thing that happened next was Alphys dropping her pen to the floor, the expressions made by everyone around her were as though the sound it made was as great and startling as cannon fire.

"Th-Th-The  _Core_?!“ the scientist balked. "B-B-B-But, D-D-Dr. Gaster it- i-it’s n-not safe there!! Th-The atmosphere, th-the fluctuating en-nergy levels; i-it’s all just a b-big explosion waiting to happen!!”

" _That issue should be resolved by now,_ “ Flowey translated, and was sure to include in his translation the dismissive tone he heard within the static. ” _There is no cause for alarm; the Core will not be exploding any time soon. If at all, if I can help it._ “

Several nervous glances were still shared throughout the group. Frisk’s body moved forward again, then stopped in front of the double doors to the elevator (Alphys and Undyne scooted a few feet to their left in order to avoid Gaster’s sphere of influence). All four colored lights lit, indicating that all four locks had been disengaged, a rigid finger reached forward, then pressed the button to summon the elevator.

As the elevator rumbled closer, a warning came from Gaster.

” _Nevertheless, I must highly advise each of you to exercise extreme caution whilst traversing through the Core. None of us want another accident to cut someone else’s life short, now do we?_ “

Even Flowey was left confused by this cryptic choice of words. 'Another’..?

”…………it was an accident?“

Only one person seemed able to find the meaning behind the mystery. His hand dragging down his face with a dry rasp, a look of reserved hope in his dim pupils, Sans wearily turned his head and stared at the back of Frisk’s.

"what happened…to you……it was an accident?”

Eyes popped open wide with revelation. Those, too, stared at the back of Frisk’s head, waiting in reserved hopefulness for an answer.

It took a moment, but Gaster chose to finally speak to his creation.

" _…Yes. It was an accident. One spurned by this foolish man’s arrogance and pride._ “

Eyes turned to Sans, a few shaky yet genuine smiles accompanying them. Sans looked beside himself, like he honestly didn’t know what to do with this information.

The elevator arrived before another word could be said. The double doors opened with a loud, protesting moan and, once fully opened, Frisk’s body shuffled inside. They were not immediately followed, but when the others started filling in after them…to everyone’s surprise (including his own, it seemed), Sans was the first. In fact, though he still looked guarded and weary, there seemed to be a subtle eagerness about him as he followed Frisk’s body into the cabin.

Even though this elevator was marginally bigger than the one that lead to the 'upstairs’ lab, it was still a bit of a tight squeeze to fit everyone in while staying out of Gaster’s 'personal bubble’. Everyone’s elbows were still getting friendly with each others, but at least Asgore was able to stand a little straighter. Actually, he was able to stand without crouching at all, the tops of his horns still at least a foot away from the ceiling. Had this elevator been crafted with him in mind..?

Maybe. Maybe not. Whatever the answer, everyone was still able to fit within the cabin (while avoiding both sets of opened double doors). With Frisk’s body stopped in front of the panel of buttons at the back, everyone waited for Gaster to input the command to take them to the next destination.

A full sixty seconds passed without even a twitch. Before anyone could question why he was making them wait, Flowey perceived Gaster’s voice through the static once again.

” _…Papyrus. Sans…_ “

He heard the two flinch, but could not see it happen. Not with the way he was still being held in Frisk’s immobile grasp added to the fact they currently had their back to the others. He wondered, briefly, if the others could tell, as he did, that the voice in the static was shaking.

” _……There are things that I have done I never wanted you to know about. That you should not have found out about so…indirectly. I will not ask for your forgiveness, but I want you to-…I **need**  you to know, that I am deeply…truly sorry._“

Flowey heard at least two different sets of breathing go funny.

”…for  _what_ , exactly?“

Smiley sounded like he was holding back tears. Before Gaster even considered giving a reply, Frisk’s arm robotically moved, one joint at a time, to extend a single finger, and press the button that made both sets of double doors groan shut.

” _Everything._ “

\----

Everything, huh?

…………

…Yep.

That was  _way_  too broad an apology for it to be anywhere close to genuine.

There was no way Sans could say this aloud, however. Papyrus was already neck-deep in the dumps; best not say something that would completely drown his brother in the pits of despair.

Brother…

Fellow test subject…

Experiment…

Creation…

Creator…

_Gaster…_

The cabin lurched, jerking Sans awake before he lost himself down  _that_ rabbit hole again. He inhaled deeply, releasing all the tension he could with the exhale. He had to remain level-headed. His thoughts had to remain clear. No matter the turmoil churning within him, he couldn’t let it out again. He couldn’t snap again.

…He couldn’t hurt Frisk again…

He felt Papyrus’ hand on his shoulder, but did nothing to acknowledge it. He didn’t want to see what he would find if he looked up at his little brother’s (yes, he was his  _brother_ ) face right now. Not when he himself was struggling to keep his own in check.

Still, he had to do  _something_. So, without a word and without looking his way, Sans reached a tremulous hand up to take his brother’s, and found himself squeezing it more tightly and desperately than he originally planned to.

Their hands remained locked together as the cabin shuddered along, feeling as though it was moving at a downwards angle as it carried him and the others to their next destination. The entire time, he did not look away from the back of Frisk’s head as he tried to keep his mind off his forgotten past and the secret of his…'birth’.

Frisk was still in there. Somewhere. Suppressed beneath the will that had claimed their body, through all the static, behind that invisible sphere of influence; Frisk was  _still_  in there. How aware were they about everything going on out here? How much was getting through Gaster’s dominating will? Did they feel it when he… How much would they remember when Gaster released his hold and let them go?

… _If_  Gaster let them go.

”…I have…been meaning to ask.“

Sans wondered, briefly, if Toriel had picked up on his mood and/or read his thoughts. Because she asked, firmly, "The…'aura’ that surrounds you whenever you are here, Dr. Gaster; what is it? Why can we not be within three yards of you without feeling so… _drained_?”

Before the doctor she addressed could answer, a different one interjected. “I…I th-think I kn-know how to explain that, t-too,” Alphys floundered, sounding like she was trying to recover the confidence she had before. “When, uh, wh-when Dr. Gaster 'visits’, h-he’s both here, a-and still within the anomaly. When he’s here…p-part of the anomaly comes w-with him. It’s l-like…'background radiation’, I g-guess would be the p-proper term for it.”

" _Very good, Dr. Alphys,_ “ Flowey translated after the static that was Gaster’s voice cut in. ” _That is indeed the phenomenon that occurs whenever I borrow Frisk’s body._ “

Sans was sure he wasn’t the only one who felt bile rising in his throat at this last statement.

"Do. NOT. Speak of my child as though their body is your  _property_ ,” seethed Toriel, and Sans felt a rising heat warming his back.

There was a pause. When Gaster spoke again, to Sans, the static somehow sounded flustered.

" _Of course. My apologies, Your Majesty. I’d call it a 'slip of the tongue’, if I ever had one._ “

Grunts and huffs of disbelief and disapproval followed these remarks. Now was  _definitely_  not the time for such dark humor.

Gaster seemed to realize this, too. When next he spoke, the static sounded more subdued, more serious.

” _…I can tell you are still troubled. Though I’m sure 'troubled’ is not strong enough a word. I may not be able to completely explain myself, but the least I can do is assuage a handful of those troubles:_

" _Frisk is safe. They are in no immediate danger. And I do no plan or wish for this…arrangement of ours to be permanent._ “

Sans felt the bile rise again. That had  _better_  not mean what it sounded like.

” _…By that, I mean, when all is said and done…_ “

The elevator came to a grinding halt.

” _Frisk’s body, soul, and life will remain their own._ “

The double doors opened, and the hot, ozone-infused air of the Core came rushing in.

Sans’ legs almost gave out; he felt like all the air had been sucked out of his rib cage, like his skull was going to melt it was sweating so much. His hands grabbing his knees and his upper half hunching forward, he wheezed heavily as a quick look at the others proved that they felt it, too. That pressure, that crushing sense of dread, that aching sensation that clawed within his very soul…

His reaction seemed the most extreme of the bunch, but every monster, once they became exposed to oppressive atmosphere of the Core, was immediately effected by it.

"Wh-What…the  _hell_?!” Undyne gasped, one arm wrapped around her middle and the other hand gripping the wall as sweat glistened on her every scale. “You…You s-said this w-wasn’t a problem anym-more!!”

"What is…the m-meaning of this, Doctor?“ demanded Toriel, every other word accented with a desperate gasp for air. "Ex…Explain yours-self!”

Sans wasn’t surprised at this, but as it turned out, both Flowey and Frisk/Gaster were completely unaffected by the unknown force that was smothering everyone else. Flowey was looking around Frisk at him and the others, a brow arched and a look that asked 'what’s your problem?’ As for the doctor…

Gaster’s reply did not immediately come. The burst of static that was his voice was a short one, one that made Flowey turn his skeptical, judgmental gaze onto the face of the person holding his pot.

" _Interesting…_ “

Undyne grunted as she righted herself, fury breaking through her exhaustion. "If y-you think…that’s int-teresting…then wait unt-til I…sh-shove my entire boot u-up…up your…ngaahhh..!”

Her eye rolling back into her head, Undyne fell to her hands and knees.

" _Do take care not to over-exert yourself, Captain,_ “ translated Flowey as Alphys knelt by her wife’s side. ” _Such acts will serve only to make you lose your magic more quickly._ “

Even with the blistering air of the Core surrounding them, a sudden chill fell over those still cramped in the cabin.

"We…are…l- _losing_  our m-magic..?” stammered Asgore, his eyes wide and his fur soggy.

" _To put it more accurately, your magic is being siphoned out of your bodies._ “

He tried. He really did try to stay calm. To stay cool and collected. To keep the hurricane raging within him under wraps.

With this last revelation, Sans’ patience finally snapped.

"You…!”

His voice a hollow monotone, he turned his head up to glare at Gaster with a burning blue eye.

"you set us up!“

With a growl, Sans lurched forward, his hands reaching for Frisk’s throat.

Meat shield be damned.

He was going to  _strangle_  this bastard.

"i knew we couldn’t trust you! i knew you were lying! i knew it! i-i kn…kn-knew..it..!”

He hadn’t come within a foot of Frisk’s body before a surge of dizziness overtook him, made him buckle, then fall with a clatter to the floor.

"y…you…“

The last thing he saw was the tiny sliver of Gaster’s face looking over Frisk’s shoulder at him.

” _bas_ … _tard_ …“

And the last thing he became aware of as everything went black was how familiar this situation felt.

How very…very…familiar…


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning: got some slight body horror in this one yo

_"you...bastard...!"_

_"No...NO!!"_

_"Behind you!!"_

_"Evacuate the Core!!"_

_"what have you done...?!"_

_"LOOK OUT!!!"_

_"S-Save yourself!!"_

_"don't let go!!"_

_"no..."_

_"no..!"_

_"NOOOOOOOOO-!"_

\----

"-ooo!! gyuh!"

Sans bolted upright, then folded in on himself as a pounding pain blossomed in his skull.

"SANS!!"

He was gasping and whimpering, his hand clutching at where the pain felt strongest.

"I-IT'S ALRIGHT, BROTHER..."

Through the pain, he could hear a voice, feel the familiarity in the embrace that circled around him.

"IT WAS ONLY A DREAM."

Those words alone were a soothing balm. The pain remained, but at least it wasn't the only thing his thoughts focused on anymore. Gasping whimpers still persisted in his every breath, but his breathing was slowing, calming down. He moved his hand away from the center of pain; it felt easier to ignore.

He finally managed to open his eyes, and see through the haze the owner of the arms around him.

"...bro..?"

"I AM HERE, BROTHER," Papyrus assured him, a weak yet loving smile on his face. "I AM HERE..."

And those words made the pain almost completely fade away. He closed his eyes again and felt himself practically melt into Papyrus' embrace.

His brother was here.

He was safe.

It was only a dream...

"Oh, thank goodness."

His eyes snapped wide open, the tension returning and locking him in place. He stayed that way until he realized that he knew that voice, and as he looked to where it came from, remembered the name that went with it.

"tori..?"

There was a tired smile on her face as she reached forward, and mopped his brow with a folded-up piece of red fabric. "You worried us, Sans," she said softly. "You were unconscious for a long time, then you suddenly began moaning and thrashing about. Were you having a nightmare?"

As Sans stared at her, blankly, Papyrus answered, "THIS HAPPENS TO SANS SOMETIMES, TORIEL. IT'S BEEN A REGULAR THING WITH HIM FOR AS LONG AS I CAN REMEMBER, ACTUALLY! THOUGH HE HAS NOT HAD A NIGHTMARE THIS BAD IN QUITE A LONG TIME."

"I see," Toriel mused, and pulled her hand away. "Well, thank goodness you were able to calm him so-"

She was cut off as Sans' hand darted out, and grabbed the cloth in her hand, the look in his eyes sharp and focused.

He knew what this was; he'd recognize the color and make of that fabric anywhere. It was his brother's scarf. Why wasn't he wearing it?

And what were those small, dried, slightly darker red splotches..?

It was with a start that he remembered. What those spots were, and how they got there. Who had been wearing the accessory when they appeared. Who had put them there.

...Who was, currently, standing a little ways past where his brother knelt beside him.

Only...it wasn't entirely 'them'.

Their body was theirs. It was still  _theirs_.

But the face they wore, that 'mask' adorning them, obscuring their real face...

It was the damning piece of evidence that confirmed it wasn't Frisk standing there.

" _gaster_ -! uurgh..!"

The pain flared as blue flames sparked in his left eye socket. It made him crumple once more, his hand once again grasping at his skull.

"Calm  _down_ , knucklehead! You're gonna pass out again!"

Sans inhaled sharply. That was Undyne's voice. She was here, too? ...Yes, of course she was. So was Alphys and Asgore and...Flowey? Yeah, him, too. And Gaster...keeping Frisk trapped in their own body.

They were all in the elevator, on their way to the Core.

The elevator stopped. The doors opened. And then...

Then......

He finally managed to smother the flame, and the anger that had ignited it. The pain now a numbing throb, he opened his eyes and looked around the five other monsters surrounding him.

"what...happened?"

"You fainted like a wuss after calling Gaster a bastard," Undyne answered flatly, her arms folded across her chest and her gaze focused on where Frisk's body stood. "Though I guess that's a bit unfair, seeing as how the rest of us were on the verge of following suit; our magic was still being drained."

Sans blinked. Yes, he remembered that much; being told that their magic was being siphoned straight out of their bodies.

"I-It felt like it had b-been going on forever," Alphys continued, "when, s-suddenly, it stopped. Dr. Gaster w-was really quiet for a while; e-ever since telling us wh-what had been happening, actually. When he spoke again, h-he asked if we were f-feeling better. A-And we were, s-sorta. It st-still took us a minute before we c-could stay standing without g-getting dizzy."

Sans looked around to her, wide-eyed.

"He then apologized," revealed Asgore, "saying he was just as surprised as the rest of us that there was, as he put it, 'still that great a breach'. That the others now have it under control, and that it won't happen again."

Sans turned slowly to face Asgore, his pupils dim and his gaze blank.

"...'others'?"

"That's what  _we_  said!" Undyne piped up, the corner of her mouth twitching in irritation. "But like the evasive bastard he is, Gaster was all like, 'you'll see for yourself', and told us to follow him as though we  _weren't_  all on the verge of having all our magic sucked out!!"

She huffed, and added another ' _Bastard_ ,' under her breath.

Sans almost chuckled in agreement. Then he realized they weren't all cramped in an elevator cabin anymore. "where are we?"

"W-We're, um, ab-bout 200 feet below the main Core complex," nervously admitted Alphys.

Sans looked back to her, his face blank with awe. "i...didn't know the core reached  _that_  deep."

"Neither did the rest of us," claimed Toriel. "Not even Dr. Alphys knew about this annex of the Core."

"Dr. Gaster said that this wasn't surprising," recalled Asgore. "He said, before the accident, knowledge of this extension of the Core was privy only to a select few. That it was no wonder no one would even consider searching for this place after that incident."

"I HAVE BEEN CARRYING YOU AS WE FOLLOWED THE DOCTOR-" Sounded like Papyrus still wasn't sure what moniker to use when referring to Gaster. "-FURTHER INTO THIS ANNEX OF THE CORE WHEN YOUR FIT STARTED. AND THAT'S IT! THAT'S ALL YOU MISSED WHILE YOU TOOK YOUR NAP!"

Sans stared past the others, focusing on nothing in particular. So that was it, huh? That's all that happened while he was out cold?

...Judging by that underlying tone in Papyrus' voice, no. It wasn't.

"there was something else." Frowning, Sans stared up at his brother's face. "wasn't there?"

Papyrus opened his mouth, then promptly shut it with a clack. He was suddenly very interested in everything that was not his brother; he could no longer look him in the eye.

Neither could anyone else, as he was quick to find out. Sans frowned more deeply. "guys, c'mon, i can handle it. what else was there?"

The others looked uncomfortable. Alphys, looking especially so, squeaked, "D-Dr. Gaster...a-asked us t-to give you a m...m-message."

Sans tensed.

"Wh-When you...woke up...h-he asked us to...to tell you that...that..."

"That you should stop jumping to conclusions so quickly, lest you hurt your 'dear friend and sibling' again."

Flowey, from where he remained in Frisk's arms, delivered the message bluntly and without a hint of care for how its recipient would react.

And its recipient reacted by becoming frozen in place, his sockets wide and his pupils shrunken.

He remembered now.

He remembered keeping the blaster pointed at them, ready to fire with just a snap of his fingers.

He remembered grabbing their soul, and throwing them to the ground.

He remembered keeping his hold on their soul, even as they fought against it to reach him.

He remembered grabbing them by the front of their shirt, and shaking them so hard their neck almost snapped.

And he remembered, just before he passed out, before falling to the floor, in his anger, he was going to...

...Oh god.

Oh  _god_.

He was really going to strangle Frisk, wasn't he?

A shudder ran down his spine. There was a quiet rasp as he covered his mouth with one of his subtly trembling hands, his head turning to the floor between his legs as his pupils vanished.

What was he doing?

He said he'd watch over them.

He said he'd protect them.

He swore he'd keep them  _safe_.

What the hell was he  _doing_??

He barely perceived the sensation of someone squeezing his shoulder through his downward spiral into despair.

"I know...you are frustrated, Sans." Toriel's soft, comforting tone felt like barbed wire against his ears (or whatever he had that counted as ears). "We all are. You might even have more reason to be frustrated than all of us combined; I understand that!

"But you cannot take this frustration out on Dr. Gaster!" Her tone had grown sharper, firmer; felt even more like barbed wire now. "Not while he is still inhabiting Frisk's body!"

"I want to give the bastard a few more 'beauty marks' myself," Undyne chimed in, a growl in her voice. "But I  _know_  I can't do that without putting Frisk in the line of fire. This whole situation is a great, steaming crock pot of total  _bullshit_ , I know, but we  _all_  need to suck it up and deal with it. If only for the kid's sake."

"SANS...PLEASE..." Not even Papyrus' voice could soothe him now. "I KNOW YOU HAVE...MIXED FEELINGS TOWARD THE DOCTOR. AND I  _KNOW_  YOU DID NOT MEAN TO HURT FRISK! BUT UNDYNE AND TORIEL ARE RIGHT. I KNOW IT'S HARD...BUT YOU CANNOT DO ANYTHING TO THE DOCTOR, SO YOU SHOULD NOT EVEN TRY."

The words swirled around in his head and further escalated the conflict brewing within him. He shuddered again, his head bowing even further and his sockets closing.

Eventually he felt a grin stretch beneath his hand.

"...you're right."

The hand on his shoulder was gone. So were the arms around him.

"i can't even  _touch_  him."

He dropped his hand, his grin stretching even further across his face.

"not while he's still 'renting' frisk's body."

Before anyone could even flinch, he was on his feet and walking forward.

"Wh...What are you doing?" stammered Toriel.

His sockets opened, within them a vast, empty darkness.

"what i should have done the  _instant_  this bastard showed his face."

As he approached the human child, he held one hand by his side, which became coated in blue flames.

"SANS, WAIT-!"

He ignored the misgivings and warning cries. He ignored the pain that flared back up when the flames re-lit his left eye. He ignored everything but the mask-wearing individual typing away at some sort of panel, his mind drifting to an eventful night in a snowstorm.

He had removed one parasite already.

Removing another shouldn't be that difficult.

"start packing your bags,  _doc_. your lease just ex...pi...re......d........."

Sans slowed to a complete stop. He hadn't even come within feet of the borders of Gaster's sphere of influence. His Cheshire cat-like smile faded, the flames in both hand and eye burnt out, and the dim lights that returned to his pupils stared vacantly at the mask-wearing individual before him.

Frisk's body was completely immobile, save for the stiff flexing of their right arm as the current dominating will typed a sequence of commands into the panel they stood before. They used only one finger, pressed each button one at a time, and each button made a short little ' _beep_ ' whenever it was pressed.  _Beep_... _beep_... _beep_... _beep_...

... _beep_... _beep_...

... _rectangle flag_... _bomb_... _pointing left_... _pointing up_... _thumbs down_...

_"No, it's 'peace sign'."_

_"oh, right. geez, it's like the doc changes this code every week! paranoid, much?"_

_"Ha! You should've been around when we were still building the Core! He was changing those codes practically every other hour!"_

_"wow. if it was that bad, then i'm sure glad i wasn't around back then. heh heh heh..."_

Sans stumbled back, feeling as though he'd been punched in his nonexistent gut.

He broke out into a cold sweat. A strange sensation had swept over him. Not the same as when his magic was being sucked right out of him but, in a way, it was? Like the ghost of its memory mixed with something else. Something that was making him shake enough to make his bones rattle like maracas.

His pupils wandered around, and only now did he really  _see_  his surroundings.

This unknown, secret section of the Core appeared to have a different aesthetic than the main facilities above. For one thing, its layout looked very permanent; not at all interchangeable like the swap-able rooms in the upper parts. Instead of blues and cyans and lots of neon, this section had a color scheme much more similar to the Core's exterior: dark, rusted browns and reds that gave off a much more industrial, practical vibe.

Also similar to the outside view, gurgling magma below the wide walkway made of pipes they all currently stood upon gave every person and structure a reddish under-glow, casting everything else in shadow.

_"say. any reason the doc decided to set up shop this deep into the volcano?"_

_"It's so we can harness the geothermal energy of the magma more directly, without it needing to go through the rest of the Core first."_

_"okay, but, doesn't that seem a little...y'know. unsafe?"_

_"Hence the three-foot thick ultra-heat-resistant glass down there. Not even fire monsters are magma-proof."_

_"...still. would it kill the doc to put a few rails on these walkways..?"_

A surge of that sensation. He realized that it felt...familiar. In more ways than one.

His eyes were drawn and stayed glued to a structure at the end of the walkway. It was massive, stretching from the thick, ultra-heat-resistant glass below all the way to the unseen ceiling far, far above their heads. The walkway seemed to lead into this structure, then continue through to the other side. There seemed to be a line in the middle of this structure, stretching from floor to ceiling and dividing it into two equal halves.

As he eyed the turbines and cogs on either side of this line, it occurred to him what this structure was:

Blast doors.

_"peace sign...frowny face...snowflake...or was it sun? star? dammit, doc! you'd better have installed an override into this thing!"_

The sensation swelled. He noticed the turbines that started turning. The panel Frisk's body stood before kept  _beep_... _beep_... _beep_ -ing away.

Just like a countdown.

"...we need to get out of here." Sans' foot slid backwards. This was a subconscious action. " _now_."

He turned his head to look at the others over his shoulder. From their reactions he knew the horror and dread in his voice was just as obvious in his expression.

"B-BROTHER WHAT- WHAT IS IT?" Shaken by his brother's fear, Papyrus rose to his feet and began to hasten to his side. "WHAT'S WRONG?"

"can't- c-can't stay here." His tremors worsened, his shirt now damp with sweat. "not...n-not safe..!"

Everyone was on their feet by this point, and closing the distance between themselves and him. "B-But," argued Alphys, "But Dr. Gaster s-said-"

"d-don't...understand..!" One hand went to his head, the other to his chest. Both grasped desperately at each. "i-it...this is...is where...wh-where..!"

He could not speak the words. It was like they were there, just within his sights, but each time he reached for them, they were jerked out from under his hand at the last second. It was like some sick prank.

Speaking of sick, he felt like he was going to be. The room was spinning. There was a sharp ache in his chest and his skull. Like a knife was stuck in the former, and the latter was going to crack and splinter and break.

He was not supposed to be here.

It was  _wrong_  to be here.

As the others gathered round, as that horrible feeling of dread worsened...he realized the beeps had stopped, and had been replaced by static.

Static that sounded...curious.

" _Do you remember, Sans?_ "

He couldn't breathe.

" _What happened on the other side of these doors so very long ago..?_ "

Everything was going hazy.

" _Interesting..._ "

He heard one final ' _beep_ '.

" _Then this should make things much simpler._ "

Then the sealed doors began to open.

The sound filled his skull; that deep, grating, rusty moan as those thick, heavy doors parted wide open, retracted into the curved walls that circled around the room beyond.

Light poured out of the crack between the doors; bright white light that filled his vision.

Not only light, but with the opening of these doors, all at once, the truth filled within him.

The voices. The visions. The nightmare he had just been awoken from.

It wasn't a dream.

It was  _never_  a dream.

\----

_"you...bastard...!"_

_Five monsters manning terminals. Four heads turning toward the door._

_"Well, look at that! The prodigal son returns!"_

_"Just in time to see us make history!"_

_"Or, more accurately, change it. Ha ha."_

_"you finished it..? and you've brainwashed everyone else into helping you do it?!"_

_Curious stares. "Uh, what're you talking about? We weren't brainwashed!"_

_"The doc DID say you had some misgivings; didn't think they'd be this bad!"_

_"Geez. Who's the paranoid one now?"_

_A slow, disbelieving head-shake. "you're insane...you're all insane! and you!"_

_An accusatory finger pointed. "now i understand what the riverperson meant when they said 'beware of the man who speaks in hands'! stop this before you blow us all_ _up you insane fucking bastard!!"_

_Silence. Stillness. A sliver of a face looking over a shoulder._

_"...And here I hoped you returned because you finally understood."_

_A sigh. "A shame, really."_

_A head turned back forward._

_"But we have come too far to stop now."_

_Eyes wide in horror. "wait-!"_

_A sequence initialized. Machinery whirring. Electricity crackling. A building whine. Evolving into a deep thrum._

_An air of smugness. "Look at that. No one blew up. Now, if you're not here to lend us your assistance, I must ask you to leave the premises."_

_A wry chuckle. "yeah. sure. i'll leave. but before i do, could you come over here so i can_ strangle _you you sonuvabi-"_

_A low rumbling. Ground lurching. Six monsters falling to the floor._

_"...What was that?"_

_Confusion. "An...an earthqua-?"_

_An alarm blaring. A draining sensation. Weakness. Fatigue._

_Darkness._

_"Wh-What...the h-hell-?!"_

_Darkness spreading. Lashing out. A scream. Cut off instantly without even an echo._

_Five monsters._

_"No...NO!!"_

_"WHAT THE FU-AAAAAAAAAAA-!"_

_Another scream. Suddenly silenced._

_Four monsters._

_Frantic scrambling. "Th-There must be a breach! Strengthen the parameters before-!"_

_"Behind you!!"_

_A warning. Too late. Not even a scream loosed._

_Three monsters._

_"Oh god..! Oh god! W-We need to evacuate the Core before-!!"_

_A monster falling. Dragged. A cry. Fear and desperation._

_"H-HELP-!"_

_Darkness. Silence._

_Two monsters._

_Shock. Horror._

_"what have you done...?!"_

_Speechlessness._

_A surge of adrenaline. "we need to get out of here! now-"_

_Doors slamming shut. Locked down. Shock strengthening. "wh-what're you-?!"_

_"We c-cannot let this spread! We must close the rift bef-fore it claims anyone else! You can brag about h-how right you were later! But for now, I need your help!"_

_Gazes meeting. An understanding silently reached. Even more frantic scrambling._

_Commands imputed. Sequences initiated. Avoiding the darkness. Fighting exhaustion._

_An alarm finally silencing._

_"there! i got it!"_

_Darkness stilling. Shrinking. Receding._

_Sucking._

_Unsteady stance. Panic. "it's...it's created a vacuum! it's gonna implode-!"_

_"LOOK OUT!!!"_

_A blind spot. A tendril of darkness. Coming closer. Extending. Reaching. Grabbing._

_Pushed out of the way._

_"d-doc!!"_

_Cringing. Collapsing._

_Dragging._

_"no!!"_

_A hand grabbed. A rescue attempt._

_Two monsters dragged closer to the implosion's epicenter._

_"It...It'll t-take us both at this rate!" Desperation. Voice failing. "S-Save yourself!!"_

_"don't let go!!" A hand reaching out. Grabbing hold and securing an anchor. "i won't let it take us! don't give up!!"_

_Vacuum strengthening. Anchor failing._

_"i...i-i c-can..!"_

_Stamina fading. Fatigue strengthening._

_"Sans."_

_Gazes meeting. One desperate. One heartbroken._

_"_ I ' m   s o   s o r r y  _."_

_"no..."_

_Eyes closing. Heartbreak giving way to resignation._

_"no..!"_

_A hand going slack. Vision obscured by tears._

_"NOOOOOOOOO-!"_

_A grip failing. A body vanishing._

_One monster._

_"DAAAAAD!!!"_

_Darkness converging. A split second of stillness._

_A pulse as the rift imploded._

_Thrown back. Back slamming hard against blast doors. A surge of energy crippling machinery._

_A streak of blackness honing in on and piercing through a left eye socket._

_"GYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!"_

_Pain. So much pain._

_Sliding to the floor. Crumpling to the ground. Hissing and whimpering._

_Through the pain, a shaking hand desperately reaching._

_"d..._ d a d _..."_

_The darkness of unconsciousness._

\----

Little could be inferred about Dr. Gaster, considering his absence from memory and existence itself. But one thing could be assumed for certain:

He sure did have a thing for skulls.

 

> _writer’s note:[listening recommendation](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wKAfsvu9Y58)_

 

At a glance, the machine looked strikingly similar to the DT Extractor rusting away in the True Lab complex. On further inspection, Sans could see, in some aspects of the design, a resemblance to the skull cannons he could summon.

Regardless, nothing about the gargantuan machinery standing before him was anything close to what came to mind when he thought of what a 'time machine' looked like.

The white light came from far above; it pumped through massive tubes in the ceiling and into the machine. That light...it must be from the main complex above; the sea of magical energy swirling between the walkways was being fed into and giving power to the machine. More tubes near the bottom of it appeared to be feeding lava into it from down below. The odd mixture of bright white and red lights cast the whole thing in an eerie, almost threatening light.

The machine itself was positioned in the center of a large, circular platform, and extended to the entire back half of it. The outer rings were composed mainly of pipes - similar to the walkway leading up to it - while the inner of a more even and solid flooring. Consoles and terminals - powered by magical energy fed into them by smaller tubes that branched off from the main ones like capillaries - were positioned to face each other near the end of the walkway, and appeared to be running programs and calculations of some sort.

Pillars, six in total and similar to the ones that flanked the entrance to the Core via the MTT Resort, stood between the terminals. Their even and linear spacing made it look like they were making the walkway continue, leading it into the part of the machine that looked like the skull's opened-sideways jaws-

Sans - having been unwarily drawing closer to the awe-striking sight - came to a statue-still halt, within him swelling a horror he could not put into words.

He recalled now, suddenly, another reason the machine had been built this deep into the Earth.

The team had found, after years of careful searching and mapping, a weak spot in the timespace continuum here.

A spot weak and perfect enough to pierce through, and open the way to the anomaly.

A wall of solid black, darker than dark, filled the inside of the skull's open jaws. Looking at it, staring into it, and he realized it was not as solid as he thought. It moved. It shifted. Its squirming edges caressed and fondled the edges of the jaws, like tendrils. Like it was trying to reach past the space it filled.

Like it was  _alive_.

Seeing the darkness, knowing it for what it was, and other aspects of the area newly opened up to him Sans truly began to notice. The scorch marks on the floor. The warped metals and frayed wires on the terminals. The pillars that looked like they had exploded. The less than exemplary patch-jobs on some of the pipes and tubes.

The memory filled within him once the doors opened.

Only now did that memory wholly feel like the  _truth_.

A disastrous accident had erased Dr. Gaster from existence.

And the anomaly that had stolen him away was right there. Writhing within the re-opened rift in the spacetime continuum the machine had torn.

Lost in memory and terror, Sans did not acknowledge the bodies that walked up to, then past him. Only one, at first; one smaller than him and shambling forward with their bare feet dragging across the floor. Then came the others; drawn into the awe-striking sight as though under a hypnotic trance. Closer and closer they moved, like the darkness was beckoning them.

Only upon realizing how close they were getting did Sans awaken from his own trance, and become filled with panic. "wa-!"

" _K e e p   y o u r   d i s t a n c e ._ "

Sans was not the only one who froze in place. Neither was his the only head that turned this way and that, trying to pinpoint the origin of that dissonant, ethereal voice. "wh-who's-?"

"Aauuugh!!"

The cry was accompanied by a small flash of light, and a sound like a thunder crash. It was followed by someone short and reptilian crumpling to the floor.

"BABE!!"

Undyne was the first to reach her, but everyone rushed toward where Alphys fell. She bent down on one knee and pulled her up, worry all over her face. "Are you alri- _what the FUCK_!?"

Alphys was hyperventilating, a not so subtle whimper in each gasp for air. She was holding one hand in front of her, the other gripping her wrist as it trembled. More than trembled, the hand she was holding seemed to be, for lack of a better word,  _vanishing_. It wavered, like it was going to come undone without even turning to dust first.

Alphys was not the only one to feel panic surge within themselves to see this happening to her.

" _R e m a i n   c a l m .   I t   w i l l   p a s s   s o o n .   Y o u   w i l l   b e   a l r i g h t ._ "

There it was again. That dissonant, ethereal voice. But, somehow, it was different from the first time they heard it. Like it was someone else talking.

As this voice claimed, Alphys' hand soon stopped the vanishing act. It was back to normal, completely solid and appearing in no danger of falling off or disappearing or anything like that any time soon.

That still did not make her tremors lessen any.

" _O u r   w a r n i n g   c a m e   a   t o u c h   t o o   l a t e ,   I   f e a r .   S o   s o r r y   f o r   t h e   s h o c k ,   m y   d e a r ._ "

" _M i g h t   w a n t   t o   a v o i d   c a l l i n g   t h e   m a r r i e d   w o m a n   y o u r   ' d e a r ' .   B u t ,   g i v e n   y o u r   u n a v o i d a b l e   ' q u i r k ' ,   b e g g a r s   c a n ' t   b e   c h o o s e r s ,   I   g u e s s ._ "

Each were disjointed and otherworldly in nature, but there were definitely distinctions between each statement that proved it wasn't just one 'person' talking; Sans counted four in total. It was still close to impossible to tell  _where_  they were coming from.

"WHO'S THERE?!" demanded Undyne, who rose into a battle stance with a spear materializing into her fist. "Show yourselves!!"

There was no immediate reply. Then one of the voices could be heard sighing.

" _I t   a p p e a r s   a s   t h o u g h   w e   h a v e   f o r g o t t e n   o u r   m a n n e r s ._ "

" _E a s y   t o   f o r g e t ,   w h e n   y o u   o n l y   h a v e   y o u r s e l f   f o r   c o m p a n y   f o r   a s   l o n g   a s   w e   h a v e ._ "

" _O u r   a p o l o g i e s ,   C a p t a i n ._ "

" _Y o u   w i l l   s e e   u s   s h o r t l y ;   n o   m o r e   d e l a y .   P l e a s e ,   d i s m i s s   t h e   s p e a r -_ "

There were four small, distinct hums of static-

" _\- n o   n e e d   t o   s t a r t   a   f r a y ._ "

-and the 'others' appeared.

They stood in a cluster on the pathway the pillars created the illusion of. They looked to be monsters, yet had characteristics that made them look strange and alien. One looked like a giant head sprouting right out of the ground, their mouth stretched wide in a jagged smile that never seemed to close and eyes that appeared to be looking in two directions at the same time, like a chameleon. Another was about two feet in height, with nubs for hands and their eyes wide and vacantly staring straight ahead; an unnerving gaze, to say the least. A third appeared to be holding a head in their hands, while their own was shrouded in darkness; the only feature that could be seen on their face was a wide, crescent smile. And the last bore a notable resemblance to a certain monster kid; the major difference was that this monster's eyes were completely white and vacant.

Despite their differences, the four figures shared a few key similarities. The first was that their bodies were completely devoid of color; a monochrome palate of grays and whites.

The other was that they were all completely see-through. Intangible.

Like ghostly after-images in a photograph.

Something washed over Sans at the sight of these ghostly beings. Nothing alarming, yet not quite soothing either; he felt no malicious intent when he looked upon their images, but the fact that they didn't appear to be completely  _there_  was still an unsettling sight.

Still, there was  _something_  about them. Past their emotionless faces, their vacant and empty gazes...something about them resonated within him.

Something...familiar.

He  _knew_  these people. Didn't he?

"it's you." His voice came out a breathless murmur, his expression becoming blank. "it's  _you_..."

Slowly, the four's faces turned, their empty gazes focusing on the short skeleton.

" _H e   r e m e m b e r s   u s ._ "

The mouth of the monster that just looked like a giant head moved, but the voice did not seem to originate from their jagged smile. It was like it was coming from everywhere, yet nowhere at all.

The head's smile seemed to grow bigger. " _H o w   n i c e ._ "

" _N o t   c o m p l e t e l y ,   I   w a g e r ._ " This time, the monster who's face was obscured in shadow that 'spoke', but it was the face of the head they held in their hands who's mouth moved. " _H e   l o o k s   u p o n   u s   a s   t h o u g h   m e e t i n g   a   s t r a n g e r ._ "

" _S t i l l ,_ " spoke next the shortest monster of the bunch, their mouth just barely moving along with the words. " _I t   f e e l s   n i c e   t o   b e   r e m e m b e r e d .   I f   o n l y   a   l i t t l e ._ "

The monster that looked like Kid did not speak; they only continued to stare at Sans' face with their ghostly white eyes, and completely unchanging expression.

"...You mind cluing us in, Sans?" Still holding a spear, Undyne turned to stare at Sans in expectancy. "Who the hell are these...'people'?"

Undyne was not the only one to turn to him in expectancy. He met each of their gazes, slowly, before looking back to the four 'ghosts'.

"they were...are?...they're...core workers. and colleagues. the ones that...got killed in the accident."

Faces smoothed in revelation, within which rose shock and horror. Undyne's spear was magicked away as she, and the others, found themselves staring at the 'ghosts' once again.

" _ **W e   w E r e   n o T   ' k i L l e D ' ,   S A n s .**_ "

Several flinched. This fifth voice sounded different than the other four; much more disjointed and rough, with static woven into every syllable. This one also seemed to have a pinpoint-able origin. The six tangible monsters followed the sound-

" _ **W E   w e R e   s i M P l y . . . ' r e m o V E d '   F r o m   r e A l i t Y .**_ "

-and found one more small,  _tangible_  figure standing among the 'ghosts'.

"Frisk!" Toriel cried out, and moved to remove the human from-

" _K e e p .   Y o u r .   D i s t a n c e ._ "

The white-eyed monster's mouth moved, their voice - like the others - speaking from everywhere yet nowhere at all. It was a dull monotone, but there was definitely some force behind it.

Toriel stopped instantly, barely a step's progress made.

" _W e   w e r e   a b l e   t o   c o n t a i n   t h e   b r e a c h ,_ " explained the shortest one, " _b u t   y o u   c a n n o t   c o m e   a n y   c l o s e r   t o   t h e   r i f t   w i t h o u t   p u t t i n g   y o u r s e l v e s   i n   e x t r e m e   p e r i l ._ "

" _L e t   m e   s e e . . ._ " The giant head turned around, their eyes focusing intently on the room around them. " _. . . I ' d   d r a w   t h e   l i n e   j u s t   b e f o r e   t h e   f i r s t   p a i r   o f   g e n e r a t o r s   h e r e .   D o   t a k e   c a r e   n o t   t o   c r o s s   i t ._ "

" _Y o u r   p r e s e n c e   a l o n e   i s   e n o u g h   f o r   u s   t o   g i v e   t h a n k s ,_ " the head-holder remarked, coyly. " _I t   w o u l d   b e   q u i t e   t r a g i c   i f   a n o t h e r   j o i n e d   o u r   r a n k s ._ "

The cryptic poem, added to the fact what had just happened to Alphys' hand, made those on the other side of the line take at least two steps backwards, away from the pillars.

Toriel, however, lingered. "But...Frisk-"

" _Y o u r   c h i l d   i s   s a f e ,   M y   Q u e e n ,_ " assured the giant head, returning to its original position and focusing both eyes back on the group on the other side of the veil. " _T h e   e f f e c t s   o f   t h e   r i f t   a r e   n o t   s o   d a m a g i n g   t o   o n e   w h o ' s   b o d y   i s   c o m p r i s e d   o f   a s   m u c h   p h y s i c a l   m a t t e r   a s   a   h u m a n ' s ._ "

" _B o d i e s   m a d e   o f   m a g i c ,   o n   t h e   o t h e r   h a n d . . ._ " The short one shrugged, as if gesturing to themself and their fellow 'ghosts'. " _W e l l . . . y o u   g e t   t h e   i d e a ._ "

Though she did not look entirely assuaged, Toriel took a gratuitous step backwards, somehow going pale beneath her white fur.

Everyone else seemed to pale, too. None so much more than Sans, who's mind began to race as things clicked into place. That's why the others were lost? Because they didn't have enough physical matter making up their bodies? And the rift didn't like magic? If that was the case then...then...

" _how_?" Sans head shook, slowly. "how are you here..? how did you survive?"

The 'ghosts' looked to their old co-worker, studying him silently, before the white-eyed one's lips flapped.

" _B e c a u s e   o f   y o u r   f a t h e r ._ "

Sans winced. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Papyrus wince, too.

The fifth voice remained silent.

" _W h e n   w e   w e r e   e r a s e d    f r o m   e x i s t a n c e ,   w e   s t r a d l e d   o n   t h e   c u s p   o f   t o t a l   o b l i v i o n .   L o s t   t o   n o t h i n g n e s s ;   w i t h o u t   s o   m u c h   a s   a   m e m o r y   t o   p r o v e   t h a t   w e   o n c e   ' w e r e ' ._ "

The shortest 'ghost' spoke emotionlessly. Their expression never changed, and neither did any of the others'. Perhaps that lack of feeling was what made the 'living' feel a growing sorrow make their chests ache.

" _T h a t   w a s   w h e n   D r .   G a s t e r   f o u n d   u s ,_ " revealed the giant head, ebbing the sorrow.

" _F o r   r e a s o n s   t h a t   e l l u d e   u s   y e t ,_ " admitted the head-holder, " _t h e   d o c t o r   h e l d   m o r e   s t a b i l i t y   w i t h o u t   a   s w e a t ._ "

" _H e   s h a r e d   h i m s e l f   w i t h   t h e   f o u r   o f   u s ._ " The white-eyed one nodded slightly to themself. " _A n d   s o ,   w e   r e m a i n e d ._ "

Several eyes slowly blinked as the words sank in.

"Sh... _shared_  h-himself?" stammered a barely recovered Alphys.

" _A   t a s k   a s   e a s i l y   s a i d   a s   d o n e ,_ " dismissed the smallest one, their gaze turning, knowingly, onto the human child standing among them. " _E s p e c i a l l y   w h e n   y o u   b e c o m e   s h a t t e r e d   a c r o s s   t i m e   a n d   s p a c e .   I s n ' t   t h a t   r i g h t ,   D o c ?_ "

The fifth voice didn't respond.

" _O f   c o u r s e ,_ " mused the giant head, and the 'living' could've sworn there was a playful note in their monotone. " _S u c h   f u r t h e r   d i v i s i o n   o f   h i m s e l f   m a d e   p o o r   W . D .   h e r e   e v e n   m o r e   s c a t t e r b r a i n e d   t h a n   e v e r .   I ' m   h o n e s t l y   s u r p r i s e d   h e   m a n a g e d   t o   g e t   h i s   t h o u g h t s   i n   o r d e r   l o n g   e n o u g h   t o   l e a d   y o u   a l l   d o w n   h e r e .   H a h a h a ._ "

The other 'ghosts' laughed along; it was deadpan laughter that only made the 'living' feel extremely awkward.

"...LET ME SEE IF I'VE GOT THIS RIGHT."

Papyrus propped his elbow in his hand, and propped his chin in the other, his expression turning thoughtful. "BECAUSE THE DOCTOR HAD MORE 'PRESENCE', EVEN THOUGH HIS BEING WAS SCATTERED ACROSS THE SPACETIME CONTINUUM, HE WAS ABLE TO SAVE THE FOUR OF YOU BEFORE YOU WERE COMPLETELY LOST TO OBLIVION? BY 'SHARING' PARTS OF HIMSELF WITH YOU?"

Many empty eyes drifted to the taller of the skeletons. " _T h a t   i s   c o r r e c t ,   m y   g o o d   m a n ,_ " confirmed the head-holder. " _I n   f a c t ,   I ' m   h o l d i n g   m y   p i e c e   r i g h t   h e r e   i n   m y   h a n d ._ "

Papyrus blinked heavily. "THAT IS. VERY UNSETTLING." He then pointed an accusatory finger at the 'ghost's darkened face. "THAT DID NOT REALLY RHYME, YOU KNOW!"

The head-holder became quiet, reflective, before shrugging dismissively.

"...and you have  _no idea_  why only the doc stayed so 'present'?" chimed in Sans, suspicion in his voice. "not a clue at all..?"

The 'ghosts' looked among themselves. " _. . . W e   h a v e   o u r   t h e o r i e s ._ " muttered the white-eyed one, eyes drifting to the human standing before them. They, nor any of their incorporeal companions, said nothing more on that subject.

"...right." Bitterly, Sans shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets. "course ya do."

"And the doc 'saved' you guys - let me guess - out of the 'goodness of his heart'," Undyne said, her voice thick with sarcasm. "And not for any other reason, right??"

The 'ghosts' looked among themselves once again before the smallest one elaborated, " _A t   f i r s t ,   y e s .   B u t ,   e v e n t u a l l y ,   i t   w a s   a l s o   s o   w e   c o u l d   h e l p   h i m   r e p a i r   t h e   m a c h i n e ,   a n d   r e o p e n   t h e   r i f t ._ "

Undyne flinched, finding her gaze drifting through the 'ghosts', and settling on the undulating darkness within the mechanical skull's jaws behind them.

" _S o   l o n g   a s   y o u   k e e p   y o u r   d i s t a n c e ,_ " interjected the giant head, no doubt picking up on the unease creeping into the 'living', " _t h e   r i f t   p o s e s   y o u   n o   t h r e a t .   W e   h a v e   l e a r n e d   f r o m   o u r   f i r s t   f a i l u r e ,   a n d   m a d e   a d j u s t m e n t s   t o   k e e p   t h e   r i f t   s t a b i l i z e d ._ "

" _D o n ' t   w a n t   a n o t h e r   j o i n i n g   t h e   f u n ,_ " the white-eyed one said, flatly.

The 'living' just grew more unsettled by the minute.

"......So. What happens now?"

Asgore asked this, bringing forth a point everyone realized they had been waiting for. Gaster had brought them to their destination. The 'others' he mentioned had been introduced (sort of). So what came next?

What was Gaster's next step?

" _. . . Y e s .   W h a t   h a p p e n s   n o w . . ._ "

The four ghostly figures, ever since they appeared, gave off a melancholy sort of vibe. Their empty gazes, their unchanging faces, how they weren't entirely  _there_ ; those on the other side of the veil were left feeling as though they were all attending the funeral of someone they didn't really know, but felt sorry for their passing either way.

Now, as all four incorporeal heads turned to stare at the human standing among them, the subtlest of changes in their eyes, their smiles, their postures, made the melancholy they practically radiated feel deliberate.

Frisk's shoulders seemed to sink.

" _ **. . . Y O u   d o N ' t   h A v e   t o   D o   t h I S .**_ " The fifth voice almost sounded pleading.

" _I t   i s   n o t   y o u r   c h o i c e   t o   m a k e ,   o l d   f r i e n d ._ " The head in their hands remained expressionless, while the crescent smile cutting through the shadows of their actual face seemed to lessen, become sad. " _A l l   t h i n g s   -   g o o d ,   b a d ,   a n d   n e u t r a l   -   m u s t   c o m e   t o   a n   e n d ._ "

Frisk's shoulders seemed to sink even further.

"...Hold up hold up hold the  _hell_  up for a sec." Undyne considered each 'ghost' carefully, suspicion creeping into her scowl. "What do you mean, 'come to an end'? What the hell are you and your 'ghoul squad' planning, Gaster??"

When the fifth voice did not answer her, Undyne stared at each member of the 'ghoul squad' in turn again, her gaze softening somewhat.

"What are you...going to do..?"

From the sound of her voice, she already had a sneaking suspicion of what their answer would be.

So did the others.

The four ghostly beings were silent for a moment, then each turned their heads up to stare at those on the other side of the veil. All of them wore a look of acceptance; it was a familiar expression, the look of someone who knew they didn't have a choice.

Still, they were all smiling.

" _W e   h a v e   d e c i d e d   t o   r e t u r n   t h e   p i e c e s   D r .   G a s t e r   h a s   s h a r e d   w i t h   u s ,_ " the voice of the giant head explained, carefully, in an almost guilty tone. " _W h i c h ,   i n   t u r n  ,   w i l l   r e s u l t   i n   o u r   p e r m a n e n t   e r a s u r e   f r o m   e x i s t e n c e ._ "

He knew they were going to say this. He suspected as much.

But suspecting it and hearing an actual confirmation were two very,  _very_  different things.

" _what_?" Sans breathed, his expression going gaunt.

"Giving back Gaster's pieces will  _kill_  you?!" Undyne summarized. "For  _real_  this time?!"

" _T h e   p r i c e   w e   w i l l   p a y   i s   s t e e p ,   i n d e e d ._ " The head-holder almost sounded nonchalant. " _K a r m a ,   f o r   b e i n g   s o   f u l l   o f   g r e e d ._ "

They thought, at first, the word had been said only to complete the rhyme. Soon, they realized there must've been more to it than that. "G...GREED-?"

"then  _don't_  give them back!"

The others who were still 'living' looked to Sans, who had stepped forward with his hands held out, a look of almost manic desperation in his eyes.

"why should you give them back at all?!" he asked - practically pleaded - those on the other side. "there's no reason to, is there?? if that's the only thing keeping you from completely disappearing, why give it up so-so  _freely_?! you shouldn't- y-you don't-!"

With a start, Sans realized who he was sounding exactly like.

"...you don't..." His arms falling to his sides, his gaze fell and rested on the back of Frisk's head. "have to do this..."

Frisk's head, just barely, bowed.

He kept staring at that head of brown hair for a while longer before movement out of the corner of his eyes made him look to find the faces of the 'ghosts' surrounding the human all turn toward him. In all four gazes (even in the one who's face was in shadow), he found endearment. Pride. Regret. So much regret.

" _Y o u   a l w a y s   w e r e   t h e   v o i c e   o f   r e a s o n ,   S a n s ,_ " reminisced the white-eyed one, a small, sad, toothy smile appearing on their face. " _A   s h a m e   w e   n e v e r   r e a l l y   l i s t e n e d   t o   y o u   w h e n   i t   t r u l l y   m a t t e r e d ._ "

Something resonated deep within Sans at these words. Something that felt both vindicated and remorseful.

Each transparent face looked more at the entire group on the other side of the veil than to their former colleague standing among them. The giant head began the explanation, a thin layer of what could be perceived as exhaustion seeping into their dissonant, hollow voice:

" _W e   k n o w   i t   s o u n d s   u n f a i r ;   a n o t h e r   t r a g i c   t u r n   o f   e v e n t s   t h a t   a l l   b e g a n   w i t h   t r a g e d y   i t s e l f .   B u t ,   i f   y o u   c a n ,   p l e a s e   t r y   t o   u n d e r s t a n d   o u r   s i t u a t i o n ._ "

" _T h o u g h   w e   s t i l l   e x i s t ,_ " picked up the shortest one, their large pupils turning toward the ground. " _O u r   e x i s t e n c e   i s   i n c o m p l e t e .   W e   a r e   n o t   a l i v e ,   b u t   n e i t h e r   a r e   w e   d e a d .   W e   s i m p l y   A R E .   A n d   w e   a r e   u n a b l e   t o   c o n n e c t   w i t h   p e o p l e   l i k e   y o u r s e l v e s .   T o   s t r a y   t o o   f a r   f r o m   t h e   r i f t .   T o   f e e l .   T o   d e s i r e .   T o   m o v e   o n .   T o   B E ._ "

"...That..." Alphys sounded like she was going to cry. "That s-sounds  _awful_..."

The head-holder shook their actual head, slowly. " _D o n ' t   g r i e v e ;   w e   a r e   g r a t e f u l   f o r   t h e   e x t r a   t i m e .   E v e n   w i t h   b e i n g   f o r c e d   t o   s p e a k   o n l y   i n   r h y m e ._ "

Alphys, along with the others standing with her, still looked unconvinced.

"...But, surely, you cannot be so  _willing_  to go through with this?" Toriel asked this with a weak, encouraging smile, which was also desperate. "To throw your lives away so easily? What about those left behind after the accident? Your friends and families, the people you loved; do you truly wish for them to continue the rest of their lives without even remembering your names??"

Every 'ghost's heads turned toward the ground. Their sad smiles became even sadder.

" _. . . W e   n e v e r   h a d   a n y o n e   b e f i t t i n g   t h o s e   d e s c r i p t i o n s ,   Y o u r   M a j e s t y ._ "

Toriel was not the only one who winced at the white-eyed one's confession, her eyes growing wide with morose horror.

" _P e r h a p s   w e   d i d ,_ " the smallest one rebutted, softly. " _O n c e .   L o n g   a g o .   B u t   t h e   w a r ,   a c c i d e n t s ,   n a t u r a l   d i s a s t e r ,   ' f a l l i n g   d o w n ' . . .   O n e   w a y   o r   a n o t h e r ,   e v e r y t h i n g   w e   h a d ,   e v e r y o n e   w e   l o v e d ,   w a s   t a k e n   f r o m   u s ._ "

" _E n t i c e d ,   w e   w e r e ,   b y   t h e   d o c t o r ' s   p r o p o s a l ,_ " recalled the head-holder. " _T h e   e n t i r e t y   o f   t i m e ,   r i g h t   a t   o u r   d i s p o s a l .   W e   c o u l d   r e c l a i m   w h a t   w e   h a d   o n c e   l o s t . . ._ "

Their head (not the one in their hands) lowered. The eyes of the one they held seemed to flick toward Sans.

" _. . . U n a w a r e   o f   -   o r ,   r a t h e r ,   i g n o r i n g   -   t h e   g r a v i t y   o f   f a i l u r e ' s   c o s t ._ "

"The price to pay..." softly repeated Asgore. "For being full of greed..."

Four gray, transparent heads nodded solemnly.

Sans, on the other hand, was shaking his defiantly. "so that's it?" he asked, struggling to keep his voice from cracking. "you just  _show up_  again - after all these years - just to fix this death trap then  _die_  for good??"

"WE HAVE NOT EVEN HAD THE CHANCE TO BECOME PROPER FRIENDS, YET!" protested a grievous Papyrus. "AND NOW WE MUST SAY GOODBYE?? THIS...THIS IS..."

"Cruel," Undyne completed the taller skeleton's statement, her voice low and a very displeased expression on her face. "Too freakin' cruel."

The four 'ghosts' looked back to those on the other side of the veil. Sympathy and gratitude were present in their otherwise empty stares.

" _W e   a p p r e c i a t e   y o u r   s e n t i m e n t s ,_ " cooed the giant head. " _A n d   y o u r   m i s g i v i n g s   a r e   r a t i o n a l   a n d   j u s t i f i a b l e .   B u t ,   p l e a s e ,   d o   n o t   m a k e   t h i s   h a r d e r   t h a n   i t   n e e d s   t o   b e ._ "

" _W e   a r e   T I R E D ,_ " stressed the white-eyed 'ghost', and the 'living' could feel the weight in that last word as if it was as corporeal as themselves.

" _W e   h a v e   m a d e   o u r   c h o i c e ;   n o   m o r e   p r o t e s t ._ " The head-holder seemed to hold the head a little more loosely than before. " _W e  a r e   r e a d y ,   f o r   w h a t e v e r   c o m e s   n e x t ._ "

Several mouths opened to protest, but all eventually shut without a peep. Soon, forlorn acceptance rippled across each of their faces. They didn't have to like it, but if this is what these 'ghosts', these...lost souls wanted...then those not stuck between life and death shouldn't try to change their minds. Right?

" _. . . A n d   n o t   a   m o m e n t   t o o   s o o n ,   b y   t h e   l o o k   o f   i t ._ " The smallest 'ghost' turned their big pupils onto the corporeal figure before them. " _Y o u ' r e   a b o u t   t o   h i t   y o u r   t h r e s h o l d ,   a r e n ' t   y o u ,   D o c ?_ "

That made everyone snap to attention. Every eye turned to Frisk, studying them carefully. They didn't  _look_  any different...but, perhaps because the 'ghosts' all had a part of Gaster within themselves, they could sense something the 'living' couldn't?

" _Y o u ,_ " observed the head holder, " _A N D   t h e   c h i l d   y o u   c o m m a n d e e r .   H o w   m u c h   l o n g e r   c a n   t h e y   h o l d   o n ?   T h e   p o o r   d e a r . . ._ "

A universally shared opinion, the voices of the 'ghosts' and their word choices were quite spooky. None were more spooky and unnerving than the head-holder's most recent poem, however.

How much did  _they_  know about Frisk's situation..?

Every see-through face (yes, even the one in the one 'ghost's hands) turned to the human standing among them. Their gazes were still empty, but also expectant.

Frisk's body soon stood straight. Well, straighter than before.

" _ **. . . I t   h a S   b e E n   a n   h O N o r   t O   w o R K   W i t H   y o U   a L l .**_ " The fifth voice sounded level, though strainfully so. " _ **T h A N k   Y o u   f o r   e V E r y t h I N G . . . m Y   f r I e n D s .**_ "

Genuine smiles appeared on every gray, transparent face.

" _T h e   h o n o r   h a s   b e e n   a l l   o u r s ,   D o c t o r .   N o   c a u s e   f o r   s t r i f e ._ " The grip the one 'ghost' had on the head in their hands was becoming looser and looser. " _L e t   u s   m e e t   a g a i n . . . i n   t h e   n e x t   l i f e ._ "

Their visage started to fade.

" _I t   h a s   b e e n   a   t r e a t   t o   f i n i s h   t h i s   l a s t   p r o j e c t   w i t h   y o u ,   W . D ._ " The giant head, too, was starting to fade. " _T h a n k   y o u   f o r   l e t t i n g   u s   b e   a   p a r t   o f   i t ._ "

" _H o p e   y o u   g e t   d o n e   w h a t   y o u   n e e d   t o   g e t   d o n e ,   D o c ._ " The smallest one's eyes were getting droopy, their body fading, as well. " _T h a t ' l l   m a k e   i t   a l l   w o r t h   i t ._ "

He barely remembered these monsters. He couldn't even call forth their names from his memory banks.

That still did not stop the pit of despair opening up within Sans' chest to see these 'ghosts' fade away. " _don't go_..."

That made the disappearing figures look back to him, peace in each of their expressions, yet sorrow glinting in their empty eyes. Then the one that looked like Kid let out a small laugh.

" _H a v e   y o u   e v e r   t h o u g h t ,_ " they asked, their gaze looking past Sans and the rest on the other side of the veil, " _a b o u t   a   w o r l d   w h e r e   e v e r y t h i n g   i s   e x a c t l y   t h e   s a m e ,   e x c e p t   y o u   d o n ' t   e x i s t ?  W h e r e   e v e r y t h i n g   f u n c t i o n s   p e r f e c t l y   w i t h o u t   y o u ?_ "

That creepy question only made the pit deepen.

" _T h e   t h o u g h t   o n c e   t e r r i f i e d   m e . . . b u t   I   n o w   u n d e r s t a n d   t h a t   s o m e t h i n g   l i k e   t h a t   c a n   n e v e r   t r u l l y   h a p p e n .   S o   l o n g   a s   t h e r e ' s   s o m e o n e   o u t   t h e r e   w h o   r e m e m b e r s   y o u ._ "

Their voices were getting harder to hear. Their figures were getting harder to see. The white-eyed figure looked Sans directly in the eye, and kindly smiled at him.

" _T a k e   c a r e ,   S a n s .   P l e a s e   d o n ' t   f o r g e t   a b o u t   u s ._ "

And before he could get in a single word, all four of his former co-workers were gone. Again. Without even a speck of dust left behind.

...No.

Actually...

They left  _something_  behind this time.

Where the one was holding its head. Where the smallest's chest was. Where the giant's smile ended. Right between the white eyes. Something floated there. Four somethings. Four small something that hovered in the air, and shimmered with white-gray light.

As it dawned on Sans and the others what they were, the lights - moving one at a time - began to converge. It was like they were being drawn in, by some invisible force, to a single point.

A point, as was soon realized, that was still standing before where the four 'ghosts' used to be.

As the pieces floated  _into_  Frisk, something appeared around them. It was as though they had suddenly donned a cloak; a cloak of translucent shadow that became darker and more opaque as the four pieces merged.

The last piece returned. The shadowy 'cloak' remained mostly see-through, and seemed to hug around Frisk from their shoulders all the way down to their feet.

...Was  _that_  Gast-

A sudden shriek of static tore through the air.

It initially threw everyone off-guard; hands were flying to ears (or where they would be). But after the initial shock ebbed, and ears were uncovered, something else threw them for another loop.

The 'cloak' was pulling away from Frisk. Peeling itself off of them like a sock that had become stuck to a blanket via static electricity. It seemed to grow in size as it pulled further away; unfolding itself, as it were. The static filling the air perfectly matched the movements of the 'cloak'.

Within the jaws of the skull past them, the living darkness had become sharp and jagged.

Then, as the last of the 'cloak' peeled away, the static was silenced. The living darkness became smooth and calm.

And Frisk teetered, then stumbled forward.

They did not go very far when they caught themself, their upper half hunched forward and their ragged breaths mimicking someone who had just come up for air after being underwater for a few minutes. Their shoulders rose and fell with every gasp for oxygen, their whole body subtly trembling.

Eventually, they were able to lift their head. It faced the wall of living darkness within the skull's jaws, and stayed facing that for a while. Their head then turned to their left, toward the tall, shadowy specter standing beside them. It turned to look to their right-

The tremors stopped. Their breathing hitched. They became as still and unresponsive as stone.

Slowly, very very slowly, they turned their head back to the left, then craned it upwards. Toward the white, cracked, incorporeal face staring down at them.

The human and the specter regarded each other in silence. From their viewpoint, those who could not venture beyond a pair of generators sticking out of the floor like pillars could not see either of their faces. A curtain of hair blocked the human's, while only the crown of the specter's oval head could be seen sticking out of its tall, oblong, black and otherwise formless body. It was impossible to get a read of their expressions, which in turn made it impossible to gauge how worried they ought to be right now.

Something started to appear in the space between where the human and specter stood. It appeared to come out from in front of the specter, or perhaps it just  _came out_  of the mass of darkness that was its body. Hard to tell which it was, for certain.

The object in question was small, oval, and white. Like the specter's head, except much smaller. There looked to be a smaller, white protrusion sticking out of its side and a large, round, black spot in its center. Or maybe it was a hole...?

At that thought, it became clear what this 'object' was.

It was a hand.  _His_  hand.

And he was holding it out to Frisk. Inviting them to take it.

That sight alone was enough to make eyes widen, stomachs do flips, hearts skip beats.

What  _really_  got the panic surging was the fact that Frisk was slowly lifting their hand up to Gaster's.

That they were  _accepting_  the invitation.

Sans couldn't hear the yells of horror and protest coming from those around him. His darkened sockets barely stayed focused on the exchange still taking place that elicited the others' reactions. His mind had gone somewhere else; forcibly snatched away from the present and jarringly returned to another time, another place.

Another intangible, incorporeal figure.

Another dissonant, ethereal voice.

Another entity.

A dark entity.

A parasitic entity.

A  _dangerous_  entity.

A demon.

_The_  demon.

The demon taunting, bragging, threatening.

The demon lunging.

The demon aiming.

The demon nearly reclaiming.

The demon laughing.

Laughing.

_Laughing..._

Sans blinked, returning to the present with only half a second gone by. But within that half-second, he had broken out in a cold sweat. The protests had increased.

And Frisk's hand was even closer to taking Gaster's.

No.

_No_...!

Not again!

_Never_  again!

He couldn't let this happen again!

He swore he'd  _never_  let that thing touch them again!!

Which is why any regard for his own safety was completely thrown out the window as he rocketed forward, grabbed the back of their shirt, and yanked them back. Away from the  **obvious**  trap and  _out_  of Gaster's clutches.

He wouldn't take them.

He wasn't going to  _let_  him take them.

Not again.

Ne v e r   a  g    a    i      n    .   .    .

Sans fell to the floor, and did not get up.

\----

"SANS!!!"

He had acted before anyone could stop him. Once again using speed they never really suspected he had, Sans had crossed the line they had been warned to stay away from. And while they were grateful he had brought Frisk back with him on his equally speedy return, that gratitude was completely smothered by horror when the skeleton, immediately after returning to their side of the line and releasing Frisk, collapsed.

After which something strange started happening to his body.

"OH MY GOD! OH MY  _GOD_! SANS?!?!" Papyrus dropped to his knees at his brother's side, eye sockets widened to their maximum. "BROTHER CAN YOU HEAR ME?!? WHAT IS HAPPENING TO YOU?!?!?"

They were reminded, vaguely, of what they saw happen to Undyne's body before she became Undyne the Undying, combined with the distortion that had surrounded Frisk whilst the memory onslaught tried to tear their soul apart, with a bit of what had happened to Alphys' hand thrown into the mix, and garnished with how the four 'ghosts' had just disappeared.

It was like his body was being pulled apart, then haphazardly mashed back together. Like it couldn't remember, exactly, what it was supposed to look like. It 'glitched'. It pixelated. It looked like it was being picked apart, one speck of dust at a time.

It was the single most horrifying thing Papyrus had ever seen in his life.

"OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD!" Over and over Papyrus repeated this, his hands hovering over his brother's glitching form as his mind went blank from shock and fear. What could he do? How could he help? How could he stop this???

"S...Sans..?"

A voice pierced through the blankness that filled every corner of his mind. A small voice. A young voice. A familiar voice. It was close. Very close. Papyrus only had to lift his head up a little - and force himself to tear his gaze away from what was happening to his brother - to find that voice's owner lying beside him, who had sounded as though they'd just awoken from a deep sleep.

Frisk looked disoriented, for the most part. But as their eyes focused - focused on the pixelating mass lying beside them - alarm completely chased out their fatigue. Even then, their movements were still incredibly sluggish as they scrambled closer, their hand desperately grasping where Sans' spasmed and glitched. " _Sans_??"

His eye had been flashing nonstop since he crossed back through the veil; a chaotic strobe light of yellow and blue, unfocused and unblinking. It appeared to remained the one part of himself that was unaffected by the distortions plaguing the rest of his body. But as Frisk's hand grabbed his, desperately clung to whatever purchase they could find, the flashing eye swiveled and stared straight at their face.

Only a twinge of discomfort flashed across the child's expression; they looked more fearful and worried about the skeleton's current condition than they were frightened by the memory of the last time they saw this eye focused on them. And it focused  _hard_. Intensely hard. Like they were the only thing the eye could see. Like their face was the welcome sight of a lighthouse's beacon in the middle of a hurricane.

Amid the garbled, blocky mess where his face would be, something along the lines of recognition surfaced.

" _k     i     d   .   .  . ?_ "

Papyrus cringed. His brother's voice sounded as bizarre and alien as the voices of the 'ghosts'; perhaps even moreso, to his horror.

... _Not_  to his horror, it appeared that, after he had spoken, his body was no longer 'glitching' quite so erratically. That he was becoming more solid. That Frisk's hand was actually  _holding_  onto something.

Sans blinked, and for a moment, his body remembered what it was meant to be.

" _kid_!!"

Sans pulled himself together enough to grab Frisk's hand back. He then pounced on them, and upon rising to a kneel, brought them up with him. His arms were locked around them, and he seemed to cave in around them as the 'glitching' started once again.

By some small stroke of luck or mercy, the 'glitching' no longer appeared quite so chaotic and violent. There were seconds of stillness between the spasms, the time between growing longer as the spasms grew shorter. Now that he had something to hold onto, something solid and  _real_  to ground himself to...it was only a matter of time before the glitching stopped, for good.

There was a subtle whimper in Papyrus' sigh of relief at the sight of his brother returned to normal. "OH THANK GOD-"

Sans flinched away from the gloved hand that stretched toward him, like a wild animal. He also sharply turned his head to look over his shoulder; actually,  _glare_  would be the more correct way to describe how his pitch black sockets and snarling mouth turned to the taller skeleton, not a hint of recognition anywhere about him.

He had also clutched the body in his arms closer to his own.

He had seen his brother as a  _threat_.

Not to himself, but to  _Frisk_.

Longer a time passed than anyone would care to admit before Sans recognized who he was glaring at, acknowledged the fearful look about his brother, and realized what he himself was doing. Dim light returned to his sockets, his face smoothed, and though he was too breathless to speak, the expression his face morphed into was one of silent apology.

And Papyrus, in turn, returned that silent apology with a patient smile of silent understanding and forgiveness.

"...c-can't... _breathe_..!"

The small, strangled gasp roused the brothers, made the shorter one come to realize just how tightly his arms were wrapped around Frisk, squeezing them to the point of practically  _crushing_  them. He stared down at them as he loosened his grip, and they stared up at him as they were given room to breathe.

Both of them were too out of breath to say anything, but they didn't need to. The looks they gave each other were enough for them to find solace; solace that the other was okay, and out of danger. They both even managed to give the other weak, tiny, yet genuine smiles.

Then something else caught Sans' attention.

His pupils turned to it first, followed soon after by the rest of his head. What he turned to, what he saw to his right, made his attempted grin and eye lights instantly vanish. The glaring scowl returned to his features, and his arms tightened around Frisk once again. More warily, this time, so as not to crush them again.

Frisk's head turned, too. So did Papyrus'. As did everyone else's. Soon, they were all staring at the same thing, and not a single one of those stares was very friendly.

The specter had not reacted when Sans had pulled Frisk away from him. Neither had he reacted when the effects of exposure to the 'rift' (as the others had called it) overcame Sans, nearly ripping him apart. No; he was just... _standing_  there. Staring at his empty hand. As if still waiting for someone to take it.

But, as the glares and stares of those on the other side bore into him, the hand retracted, back from whence it came.

He became stock still for a very...very long time.

...What was he going to try next? Was he still in pursuit of Frisk? Would he come for them? Snatch them out of Sans' arms and spirit them away to someplace no one would ever be able to reach them again? Several started preparing for this possibility, from summoning fire balls and spears to outright putting themselves between Frisk and the specter. Sans' eye flashed blue and yellow once again.

They waited for the specter to make his move. Longer and longer they waited for him to try  _anything_. And at the very peak where tensions reached their climax, the specter finally did something.

He started to vanish.

The monsters still remained on guard, but they were taken aback by this unpredictable turn of events. He wasn't disappearing as the other 'ghosts' had.  _Their_  disappearances had a distinct finality to them; they were never coming back. But with  _this_  ghost...

It was like he was being pulled. Drawn into the blackness filling the jaws of the machine behind him. His shadowy body was merging with the darkness of the open rift; soon the only thing that indicated he was still there was the dull white - getting duller - of his head; it now looked completely disembodied.

It slowly turned to face the group.

It unfathomably smiled at them.

They could've sworn they saw two points of violet light shine within the depths of its vastly empty eyes.

And then he was gone.

Leaving nothing behind but the memory of how those lights seemed to pierce through the bodies between them, and rest solely on Frisk.

...And speak only to them six simple words:

     **Ţ̪̳͚̞̜̺̼̦͟H̺̖̞̳̖̜̣̘̠͜E̸̷̱̬̮͚͔̲͍̳͡**

     **D̡͏͖̹͙̦͇̲͞O͇̱̪̭̥̺͖͍͚C̛͖̤͙̳̝̲̣̺ͅT̡҉͇͇͕O̢̨̧̗̗̣̙R̢͍̺͙̮̯̩̼͟ͅ**

     **W̶̱̗͇͠I̝̹̮L̝͔͖L̵̗̬͔̖̲̗̭͢ͅ**

     **S̟͈͟Ę̵̪̩̟͓̩E̫̼͙̗̼̦̺**

     **Y̩̠̜Ọ̵͎̟̞͎͠͝U͙͖̟ͅ**

     **N̼͎̻̠͉̪͢͜Ọ̴̸̖̭̯̜͎W̯̖̥̥̰͍̱**


	22. Chapter 22

**Part I**

**Content warning: Major depressive episode, suicide mention, heavy implications of abuse, and vomiting**

 

_"_ _I cannot express how much I appreciate you coming, Sans."_

_"hey, 's no big deal. i like hangin' out here."_

_"I know you do, but...with what happened with your brother, I thought you would-"_

_"nah, it's cool. you know how pap is; nothin' keeps him down for too long. now, you said over the phone that it's frisk we should be worrying about?"_

_The thin smile on Toriel's face became a thin frown. She turned toward the stairs, a hand gesture beckoning Sans to follow her._

_"You know they have been out of town recently," she said as they walked. "A conflict arose across state lines, and they were needed as the ambassador."_

_"yeah, i heard about that," Sans responded, one hand reaching up to rub the back of his skull. "sounded like some tricky business; did things go downhill or_ _somethin'?"_

_"No, no." Toriel shook her head. "The conflict was resolved peacefully."_

_Sans arched a would be brow. "then why'd you ask me if i could cheer 'em up?"_

_The pair arrived at the top of the stairs. Toriel stopped there, wearily eyeing the door to Frisk's bedroom further down the hall._

_"...They have not left their room since returning home."_

_Sans' smile wanned. "not once?" He also stared at the door. "in two days?"_

_Toriel shook her head, defeated. "Not to my knowledge."_

_He kept staring at the door for a while before turning back to Toriel. "and you think i can help?"_

_"I hope you can." She hugged her arms around her middle, her gaze turning somber. "I have tried asking them myself what is troubling them, but they would not say_ _anything to me. I asked Asgore if he could speak with them, but his results were the same as mine. I even asked Undyne and Alphys and Papyrus; Frisk did not open up to_ _any of them."_

_"not even_ pap _got through to 'em?" That made his eyes widen a bit. "sorry for the skepticism, tori, but what makes you think i'd fare any better?"_

_Toriel shrugged, and tried not to make it look helpless. "I just thought, given your...'history'..."_

_Sans' pupils dimmed. Oh._

_"Truth be told, you were the first person I wanted to ask." She looked down at him, sympathy in her expression. "But, considering what had happened to Papyrus, I_ _thought not to put too much on your already full plate."_

_"...gotcha."_

_He blew out a sigh, then turned toward the end of the hall. "welp. guess i can give it a shot."_

_Toriel gave him a small smile, then they both walked up to the door with Frisk's name embroidered on it with stars and flowers. Three polite raps echoed against_ _the wood. "Frisk? You have another visitor."_

_Neither of them could hear any sort of response come from the other side._

_"this'll give you a clue to who it is," Sans said, playfully, as he gave the door two definitive knocks._

_There was no reply._

Knock, knock.

_No reply._

Knock, knock.

_No reply._

Knock, kn-kn-knock, knock.

_Nothing._

_Sans looked up at Toriel. "...that bad, huh?"_

_The former queen sighed inwardly before carefully, quietly, opening the door a crack. "My child?" She peered in through the narrow opening. "You are still in here,_ _yes..?"_

_Sans tried to act like he didn't sense the note of horror in her voice when she asked this. Neither did he comment on how relieved her following sigh sounded. She_ _opened the door further, then Sans poked his head in through the crack. "frisk? buddy? you kinda missed the part when you're s'posed to say 'who's there'. it's sans,_ _by the way. now you ask 'sans who?'. then i'd- y'know it really defeats the purpose of a knock knock joke if i gotta explain it any further than that."_

_He spotted Frisk sitting on their bed, which was against the wall opposite to the door. They sat with their back to this wall, the sill of the window behind them_ _at the same height as their hunched-forward shoulders. They sat with their legs pulled up to their chest, with their mouth against their knees and their arms wrapped_ _around their legs. They looked to be holding something in their hands - Sans soon realized it was their phone - and they were staring at it with scarcely a blink._

_They did not look up from their phone upon Sans' comments. They didn't even flinch._

_The skeleton stared a moment longer, then retracted his head and pulled the door closed, leaving it only slightly ajar. "any idea what set them off?" he asked, his_ _tone hushed._

_"My initial belief was that something happened while they were abroad," Toriel whispered back. "Then, I feared it might have been because they learned of your_ _brother's accident. But seeing as they still have not spoken to me..."_

_She gave a tired sigh and rubbed her closed eyelids with a finger and thumb. It was obvious that she was desperate, worried, and scared._

_"...alright." Sans took a deep, steady breath. "i'll see what i can do."_

_"Thank you," the mother whispered as Sans opened the door again, his face set in its usual friendly grin._

_"heya, frisk." He lingered just inside the doorway. "mind if i come in for a while?"_

_All Frisk did was swipe their finger across the phone's screen before becoming still again. They did not look up or say a word._

_"...imma take that as a 'sure'." He still lingered by the door. "you want me to leave the door open or..?"_

_He studied them carefully, searching for anything that would give him an answer. After a few moments without a tell (the kid really did have an amazing poker_ _face), Sans looked back into the hallway and gave the taller monster waiting there a look. A look that told her that, if he_ did _get Frisk to open up to him,_ _they would probably only do so if they knew she wasn't hovering just outside the door._

_Toriel almost challenged that look, but became awash with mournful resignation. Downtrodden, she turned and walked away, hugging herself more tightly as she_ _descended the stairs. Sans waited until she was completely out of sight to enter the bedroom proper, closing the door gently behind him._

_"so-" He leaned back against the wood and stuck his hands in his pockets. "-how's kicks?"_

_When Frisk did not respond, immediately or otherwise, his eyes started to wander. "this place used to be pretty_ bare bones _, didn't it?" he offhandedly_ _commented. "back when we all first moved to the surface, i mean. 's nice to see it's got some personality now."_

_He nodded at the pale yellow curtains framing the northern window. "tori help you pick those out? purple's, like, her main 'go-to' color, but she's got a soft spot_ _for yellow. guess you do, too, huh?"_

_He glanced toward the other window, and saw no change in the person sitting in front of it._

_His pupils returned to their previous position, then wandered down to the electronic keyboard surrounded by sheet music on the floor. "undyne's really been_ _grillin' you with those piano lessons, hasn't she? considering she's been banned from cooking from, not only tori, but every single fire department this side of the_ _state line, it's good she's been able to channel all that energy into a less destructive activity. heh heh." He looked back to the bed. "you mastered the theme song_ _for mew mew kissy cutie yet?"_

_Frisk swiped their finger across their phone screen once again, in total silence._

_His eyes now wandered to the southern wall, to the bookcase beside the desk. "you plannin' on getting any actual books for that thing, or has it permanently become_ _a mettaton shrine?" he wondered aloud, in reference to all the MTT Brand merchandise lining the shelves. "you're, like, always the first person to receive somethin'_ _when he comes out with a new product or toy or whatever, yeah? that's pretty neat."_

_He nodded, as if agreeing with himself, then noticed a few deviants among the sea of Mettaton's face. "oh? looks like alphys got you hooked on anime figurine_ _collecting. watch anything good lately? nothing too rauchy, i hope. alph would never hear the end of it if tori finds out she's been showing you anything she doesn't_ _deem age appropriate, heh heh heh."_

_Another finger swipe. Without a word._

_"ah, so that's were your books moved to," he commented upon seeing the single row of books wedged between book-ends that looked like two halves of a heart on the_ _desk by the bookcase. "open-floor plan; i can dig it. any of 'em have misleading covers that're worth the read?"_

_He started approaching the desk, eyes on the object that looked like an unfinished tower. "you still workin' on this 3-d puzzle with pap? or is this a new one..?_ _sorry my memory's fuzzy; papyrus just has so many of these it's hard to keep track...of..."_

_He trailed off, stopping a foot short of his destination. There, sitting among the puzzle pieces littered across the desk's surface, a plate of food rested. A_ _piece of butterscotch cinnamon pie - Toriel's trademark - that looked like it had only been cut from the rest of the pastry minutes ago. Untouched, undisturbed, and_ _judging Frisk's current state, not even_ looked _at before now._

_The thought crossed Sans mind that, since monster food didn't spoil, it could've very well been sitting there ever since the kid began this...self-appointed_ _solitary confinement._

_His expression, masterfully, did not reflect how gloomy that thought was. "oh, sweet. free pie." He took the plate and lifted the pie slice off it, keeping it_ _hovering over the platter so as not to spread crumbs on the carpet. "what's better than a plate full of-"_

_A sound cut him off, startling him a bit. He knew some human bodily noises happened involuntarily, but it was almost scary how Frisk's stomach growled as if on_ _cue, in response to him nearly taking a bite._

_...He was never going to, of course. He just wanted to see if trying to eat the food that was clearly left out for them would've been met with protest. Or_ _anything, for that matter._

_"...'course-" He put the slice back down, and returned the plate to the desk. "-i just had a big lunch over at grillby's. and take it from me, kid, grease and pie_ _are not a harmonious couple. heh heh...heh."_

_Being met with silence once more, Sans closed his sockets and suppressed a sigh. He turned and walked up to the edge of Frisk's bed, giving its current occupant a_ _grin. "there, uh, there any room on starship frisk for one more passenger?"_

_He said this in reference to the bedspread Frisk sat upon, which had galaxies and planets and rocket ships printed on the dark blue fabric. Sans himself had given_ _this to them as a Giftmas present (though they called it 'Christmas' up here on the surface). And though he was happy it was seeing some use, he would've been even_ _happier if the recipient of his gift would speak to him. Hell, he'd settle for a glance at this point._

_He stared at them, waiting, for a moment longer before planting his palms on two planets. "alright. comin' up."_

_He grunted softly in exertion as he lifted himself onto and sat down on the mattress, which creaked softly under his weight. It creaked even more as he scooted_ _backwards, all the way until he was against the window sill and right beside Frisk._

_"speaking of which-" He looked around the room once more, nodding slightly. "-you really went whole-hog with those glow-in-the-dark stars we got, huh? heh, floor's_ _the only flat surface i can see that was spared from this star-splosion. meanwhile i...haven't really even opened mine up yet. but, heh, you know me."_

_He looked to his right, his grin encouraging. It fell, however, once this close a look at Frisk made him see how dark the bags under their bloodshot eyes were. Had_ _they also not been sleeping...?_

_He blinked, and reset his grin. Needing a new topic, he looked out the window behind where they sat, immediately spotting the row of potted plants sitting on the_ _outside ledge._

_"asgore's given you a real green thumb, hasn't he? truth be told, i've actually thought about keeping one around mine and pap's place. something small, of course,_ _nothing too high maintenance. 'cuz, well, you know me. any suggestions?"_

_A quick peek revealed nary a change in Frisk's demeanor, so he looked back out the window, listening to the melody of the wooden wind chime hanging down in front_ _of the glass as he purveyed the world outside, which was cast in the warm glow of the mid-afternoon sun._

_"...when we first came up here," he reminisced, "the thing everyone was most jazzed about was being out in the sunlight. to actually feel its warmth and all that._ _i was pretty excited by it, too. but after spending...how many months has it been now? eh, doesn't matter. point is that, as much as i appreciate being able to spend_ _the days up here in the sunlight...i think i like it better when it's overcast and rainy rather than clear and sunny. it's...how do i put this? it's...a nice reminder_ _that the world's still turning, that things keep changing, that we're moving_ forward _."_

_He looked back at Frisk, a somewhat sheepish look on his face. "that make any sense?"_

_He watched as Frisk blinked, slowly, without comment. It may have just been his imagination, but he could've sworn their eyelids did not return to their starting_ _position; that they were a little bit lower than before._

_Sans blinked, too, and held back another sigh. "yeah. guess you'd have to be in my head for that to make sense."_

_He leaned back a little, staring outside once more. In the distance, he spotted a familiar mountain range, and turned his sights a little 'closer to home'. A_ _flower garden lined the fence that bordered the yard; the only flowers he could immediately recognize were those of a golden variety. He also spotted a swing set and a_ _tall tree with long, drooping branches that sagged toward the ground (guess that's why it was called a weeping willow). And just below the window, a honeysuckle bush_ _was in bloom; he could smell the blossoms' sweet aroma wafting in through the window's opening, carried up to the second-floor room by the late-spring breeze that also_ _rattled the wind chime. He wondered if it made a good cushion when-_

_Sans tensed, then shook the thought out of his head with an actual shake of his head. He was here to try and lift Frisk's spirits, not bring them down further with_ _thoughts_ that _dark. Had to think of something else to say. A new topic to explore, to steer clear of the unsavory ones._

_He didn't have to search too long before a quiet, electronic trill gave him a start. He looked to find Frisk swiping their screen again, dismissing something he_ _didn't quite catch. "by the way..." He leaned over until his head was right next to theirs. "whatcha looking at?"_

_Frisk didn't pull away or try to hide their phone. They remained completely unresponsive even as Sans leaned away, only to scoot closer so he could look over their_ _shoulder more comfortably._

_"browsing your photo collection, huh? you've gotten really handy with your phone's camera, haven't'cha? wait...is that from when we went karaoke-ing? heh heh heh,_ _still can't believe you convinced me to tag along with you and alph and undyne and pap. not only that, you got me to hum a coupla bars, too. fun times, fun times..."_

_Frisk, wordlessly, swiped the screen again, moving onto the next picture._

_"and...that's from the prank war, isn't it? heh heh heh heh, now_ those _were fun times." He bent one leg, so he could rest his elbow on his knee and prop his_ _head in his hand. "now that i think about it, i never really gave you props for how clever you were with your pranks. 'specially with that last one. that one was a_ _stroke of pure genius, if i say so myself. a kid after my own heart, you are. so, yeah, nice job, kiddo. i couldn't be prouder to call you my successor to the throne_ _of prank mast-whuh-oh. looks like your phone's outta battery."_

_The screen had gone dark as Sans was talking, and wouldn't light up again no matter how hard Frisk pressed its power button. "okay, no need to alert the presses."_ _Sans reached over, and slid the phone out of their hands. "just needs a little pick-me-up. where d'you keep your charger?"_

_He did a quick look around to see if he could spot it on his own. He didn't. He faced Frisk to ask them once again, only to feel his spirits sink so much even his_ _smile fell. Even with the device out of their hands, they still did not move or speak or even look up; they just kept staring, silently, at their fingers, as if an_ _invisible ghost phone had replaced the physical one._

_Sans no longer felt the need to hold back his sighs._

_"...alright. no more bush-beating."_

_He placed the dead phone on the mattress to his left, out of Frisk's reach. He lifted his head out of his hand and let his arm hang down at the elbow, his eyes_ _closing as he leaned the back of his skull against the glass. He took a deep breath, and placed his other arm around Frisk's shoulders._

_"something's gotcha down," he said, pointedly. "you haven't said what that is, but i'm gonna assume it has to do with the car wreck. now i know you've been told_ _this a hundred times already, so let's make it an even one-oh-one: pap is okay. it was an accident. nobody got hurt. the vehicles took the brunt of the damage. the_ _other person knew they were responsible and they've offered to cover all the expenses. but, heh, knowing our brother, i'm positive papyrus will convince the other_ _driver to go halfsies on footing the-"_

_"Are you gonna outlive me?"_

 

> _writer's note:[listening recommendation](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZltRcUCpdS8)_

 

_Sans' arm around Frisk's shoulders stiffened. So had the rest of him. His sockets snapped open wide, his grin completely fading. Only the clanking of the wind_ _chime outside marked the seconds of silence that passed inside._

_"...you...uh..." His movements were stiff as he turned his skull to stare, still wide-eyed, at the person sitting beside him. "you...wanna run that by me again?"_

_Just as they had finally spoken, Frisk finally relieved themself of their statuesque state. Their hands 'dropped' the invisible phone and wrapped around their_ _knees, their head turning a fraction away from Sans as they repeated, only a touch more loudly, "Are you...gonna outlive me?"_

_Sans blinked, owlishly. He couldn't read the tone in their voice, and with their face turned away he couldn't gauge their mood from their expression. But,_ _considering the context of their question, it was much, much worse than he originally thought._

_"what..." His voice sounded a little weird, so he cleared his nonexistent throat before questioning, "what makes you think that?"_

_"...Dunno," they quietly answered with a tiny shrug. "It's just...monsters seem to live forever, don't they? Mom and Asgore and Gerson have been alive since before_ _the war, and that was over, what? A thousand years ago? If they live healthy life styles and avoid danger, monsters can live for a really, really long time, can't_ _they? Meanwhile humans, like me..."_

_Frisk fell quiet for a moment, then let out a dry, bitter chuckle. "I'll be lucky to get another eighty years before I kick the bucket."_

_Sans, unsure of what else to do, just continued to stare. "uh-"_

_"And that's only if I_ don't _kick the bucket before then. A lot can happen in that time frame. I could get sick. I could wind up in the wrong place at the_ _wrong time. So many things could go very, very wrong..."_

_The added under their breath, in a way that sounded like they were repeating it, "Accidents happen every day."_

_Sans could feel himself tensing. Okay, things were only going to go further downhill if that train of thought continued. Had to change tracks. "well, uh, yeah,_ _they do. but-"_

_"And what then? What's gonna happen when I'm at death's door? Are you all going to have to live the rest of your lives without me...?" Their hands clenched,_ _bunching the fabric of their pajama pants between their fingers. "...Or will we get to do this all. Over. Again?"_

_The emphasis in that last question wasn't needed; Sans knew immediately what they meant. But it still took a moment of shock recovery before he could rebut. "h-h_ _ey, i thought we already established that that's not happening. remember? with alph? you said yourself that now we know you can't reset anymore-"_

_"_ Do _we?" Their tone was biting, yet their voice shook. "_ You _said so yourself: the only surefire way to know if I can is if I... So how can we be so_ _sure I can't reset anymore until I do, huh??"_

_Sans was ready to argue, but found himself silenced. He also found himself looking away, the hand not around their shoulders reaching up to awkwardly rub the base_ _of his skull. Morbid as it was, they had a point._

_"_ See _?" Frisk quipped when Sans didn't raise any counterpoints. "All it would take is one little slip-up, one little accident and then-" They snapped their_ _fingers, so quickly and without warning it made Sans wince. "-we get to do this_ all. Over. Again. _"_

_They were emphasizing their words with more force, with a more pronounced undertone of anger. Sans_ really _needed to make the train jump tracks now. "w...we_ _don't know if-"_

_"You knew this." Now, accusation was most prominent in their voice. "You_ always _knew this. That's why you came after me that night. Why you talked me out of_ _what I set out to do. Why you whispered all those_ sweet nothings _into my ear. Because you thought that's what I needed to hear. What would get me to change my_ _mind. Because you_ knew _, if_ I _didn't make it through the night..._ you'd _never see another morning again._ Right _?"_

_Sans found himself unable to speak once again._

_"Because that's all I am to you." Frisk shrunk away from his arm, their head turning a fraction more away from him. "Your 'anomaly'. A living reminder that, no_ _matter how much you kid yourself, you're_ not _really moving forward. A_ god _you need to keep safe and protected and_ satisfied _because, otherwise,_ _another of your_ precious _timelines goes straight down the tube."_

_Sans felt as though something was blocking his throat, but he tried to get the words out nonetheless. "th-that's-"_

_"What a nice, happy lie it was," Frisk murmured with a scoff. "That we were all one, big, happy family. The only way we got put under that delusion was because I_ _was there to fix everyone's problems, and we_ allll _know that's the_ only _reason I'm still being kept around: to_ keep _fixing everyone's problems."_

_"that's not-"_

_"What'll happen, then? When I finally screw-up so bad I can no longer fix_ anyone's _problems? You won't want me around anymore. You won't_ need _me_ _around anymore! No one will! You and Papyrus have each other! Alphys and Undyne have each other, too! Mettaton has his cousin and the entire_ world _to love him!_ _I'm_ more _than positive Asgore would be content spending the rest of his days making the world more beautiful with his gardening! And Mo-"_

_Frisk tensed, the word barely leaving their mouth before they clamped it shut. After a short pause, they inhaled deeply and noisily through their nose (it made a_ _small whistle) and turned their head down._

_"...There are_ plenty _of other children out there deserving of a mother's love like Toriel's. And me? I'm just a number. Another coffin-stuffer. Another_ _child in a_ long _line that she'll have to say goodbye to before_ replacing _me!!"_

_For just a moment, Sans could've sworn he heard the door creak, as if someone on the other side was about to open it, but stopped themselves before they even_ _turned the knob._

_"All I'm good for is fixing your problems! And when I can't do that anymore? You'll be_ done _with me! Because you_ never _needed me! But_ I _did!"_

_That made Sans flinch again, and become silent once more as the tension left Frisk's muscles, and they sagged like the branches of the weeping willow outside._

_"_ I _did..." they repeated, softly, all traces of bitterness and anger gone from their voice. "_ I _needed you. I_ always _needed you. Even when you_ _won't anymore, I'll_ still _need you. I may not mean anything to you, one day, but to me...all of you..."_

_They raised their head slightly, allowing Sans to see the telltale beginnings of the most broken smile he'd ever seen in his life tug at their quivering mouth._

_"You...mean......_ everything _to me..."_

_And even though the tension and the anger and the biting words returned in full force, the broken smile still played on their lips._

_"And how have I repaid you?? By keeping you all_ trapped _in a never-ending time loop of darkness and death 'cause apparently I can't_ stand _the thought of having to let you go one day! Because as long as I'm still alive, as long as I '_ stay determined _', you will_ never _be safe from me!!"_

_The lump returned to Sans' throat. His head shook, slowly, side to side. "kid-"_

_"And it's_ not _like I can just_ run off _again!" Sarcasm was now thrown into the mix, their broken smile evolving into an equally sarcastic and broken_ _smirk. "Can't keep my distance to 'soften the blow' when the inevitable_ finally _comes._ Noooo _, you_ have _to keep me close. You_ have _to make_ _sure I stay alive, that I_ staaaaayyy _determined. Even if it means_ dragging _you all down with me when the day comes that I. Can't._ Take it anymore _!!"_

_Sans reached his other arm out to them. "_ frisk _-"_

_"Do you think I_ asked _for this?! You think I_ wanted _it to be this way?! I went to the mountain to_ kill _myself!! Not to have the future of the_ _whole world depend on whether I live or-!!"_

_Sans did not interrupt them. The pressure of his hands on their shoulders did not cut them off. They paused on their own volition, their expression going blank and_ _their muscles lax._

_And even though he was grateful they were no longer spouting such demoralizing, self-hating slander, how abruptly they had fallen silent was enough to make_ _nervousness outweigh the thankfulness. "k...ki-?"_

_"Heheheheh...eheheheheheheh...ehehahahahahahahAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"_

_If the sudden silence was enough to rattle him, the sudden laughter was enough to make him pull his arms quickly away, his body to stiffen, and his eyes to go wide_ _and dark._

_It wasn't their normal laugh. Not even close to it. It more closely resembled the cackles of a madman as opposed to the gentle peal he knew and was used to. It was_ _loud and very unsettling. It shook their whole frame, and even part of the bed beneath them. It was accompanied by a wide smile and a crazed look in their eyes._

_But, even within the madness, the spark of revelation was present._

_"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA THAT'S IT! I get it now! I_ finally _get it, Sans! This is_ punishment _!!"_

_Sans felt more and more the need to keep his distance from the suddenly deranged child. "p...punishme-?"_

_"Punishment! It's the_ only _explanation! I'm being punished for trying to_ escape _my own problems by offing myself!!"_

_Somehow, Sans' eye sockets became even darker._

_"It's all some_ divine intervention _or something!! And it's telling me that I should've never survived the fall!"_

_"...frisk-"_

_"That I never should've fallen!"_

_"frisk-"_

_"I never should've gone to the mountain!"_

_"buddy-"_

_"I never should've run away!"_

_"kid-"_

_"I should've just stayed home and_ sucked it up _!"_

_"_ kid- _"_

_Moisture started accumulating in their eyes as they raised a hand to their head and tightly gripped their hair._

_"I should have_ never been BORN-!! _"_

_"_ **S t o p .** _"_

_The rest of the world always seemed to go completely silent whenever he used the Voice. This time was no different; not even the wind chime dared to break that_ _unspoken rule._

_Which is why he didn't realize Frisk was whimpering until after that strange effect of the Voice finally wore off._

_He blinked, not realizing that his face had morphed into a scowl until he smoothed it out. He blinked some more, and found that Frisk was, finally, looking_ _directly at him, the scary look on their face replaced with just a scared look. Only, that was putting it lightly. Absolutely mortified was more fitting, without even_ _a memory of their unhappy smile remaining on their face and their hands held in front of their chest in defense._

_With the way they were staring at him, he got the impression it wasn't just because he used the Voice that they were looking at him in such terror. As he thought_ _about it, he realized one of his hands was clenched as though holding something, even though there was nothing there. That got him wondering if he-_

_Oh god._

_He did._

_"......just..." Gently, so incredibly slowly and carefully and gently, he relaxed his hand. "_ stop _."_

_Sitting atop their starry comforter, the breath Frisk finally released shuddered. So did every inhale and exhale after that. They continued staring up at Sans, his_ _expression pleading and penitent, until some tiny semblance of normalcy returned to their breathing pattern. They then turned their head away, down toward the galaxies_ _at their feet. Everything became quiet; the wind had died down, so not even the wind chime disturbed the silence._

_The moisture that had formed in their eyes soon started to roll down their cheeks._

_"I..." Their voice breaking like glass, more tears were squeezed out of their tightly shut eyes as they curled up on themself, the heel of one hand reaching up to_ _their now grimacing face as they started to sob. "I d-didn't_ ask _f-for this..."_

_This wasn't at all like when they were in the blizzard. Back then, their cries were loud, earnest, and liberating. Now...they were small. Restrained. Mournful._ _Unsure. Scared. So, so scared..._

_And that's what made their tears all the more heart-wrenching._

_Sans hesitated. Who wouldn't, after what he'd just done? Granted, it was a knee-jerk, subconscious reaction (triggered by an old, very unpleasant memory), but that_ _didn't excuse the fact that it still happened. But the more they sobbed, the more the hesitance wore away, until, finally, he knew it was absolutely necessary to reach_ _out to them again._

_Still, he was cautious and gradual in his approach. He started first with extending one arm behind them, to place his hand on their far shoulder. Then the other_ _arm reached around in front of them (maneuvering carefully through the cramped space between their arm and face) to join the other hand on their shoulder. He then_ _scooted closer, and simultaneously tugged them towards himself until their closest shoulder was against his ribs. The hand behind them then reached up to their_ _head, which he gently leaned sideways until it rested in the crook of his neck. His hand stayed there, and finally, he closed his eyes and rested his mouth against_ _their hair._

_The hand not on their face reached up to cling to his jacket sleeve as they melted into his embrace, and sobbed harder. Which only made him hold them closer and_ _tighter._

_The line, Sans knew, that divided simply getting things off one's chest and diving head-first into hopelessness and despair was thin as spider's silk. Hard to say_ _exactly where, but he knew they crossed that line some time ago. He should have stopped them sooner. He should not have let it go this far. He should not have snapped_ _at them. And he_ definitely _should not have..._

_He squeezed his eyelids tighter as their sobs became not the only thing that made him shake._

_Frisk still clung to him even as their sobs lessened to whimpers, their quakes into shivers. The area of Sans' sleeve their face was against was now completely_ _soaked through to the bone. Sans opened his eyes and stared at nothing as he gingerly caressed their head, his vision bleary and misty._

_"...Am I insane?"_

_Sans blinked, his hand freezing mid-stroke. He almost didn't catch the words. "uh...no?"_

_"Am I_ going _insane?"_

_"wha-? no!" He pulled away a little, trying to get a good look at their face. "kid, why would you-"_

_"Then what is_ wrong _with me!?" Their voice was so hoarse they could put reigns on it and call it a thoroughbred. "I-I'm supposed to be better! To not be_ _th-thinking about that stuff anymore! But I'm..._ I'm _...I'm just getting worse and worse-!"_

_"no, frisk._ no _," he firmly denied, and more firmly strengthened his embrace. "there's nothing 'wrong' with you. you_ are _better. who says you're_ _getting worse? if you weren't better you'd be halfway to ebott by-"_

_Both of them tensed at the same time._

_"i- uh- i-i mean-" Sans groaned at himself and smacked a palm against his forehead. "oh man, that did_ not _come out right at all..."_

_He said nothing after that. Neither did Frisk. They were still sniffling, making that the only sound that marked the seconds that passed._

_"...god." His bones made a soft scrape as he ran his hand down his face, his sockets apprehensively staring off into a corner. "you're_ way _too young to_ _hafta be worrying 'bout stuff like this..."_

_They really were. They were only...ten? Eleven now? The only crises someone their age needed to deal with were things like making a play date or turning in a_ _homework assignment on time. Not...not any of these existential horrors only adults should have to worry about. There'd be time to deal with that stuff later, when_ _they were older and had more worldly experiences under their belt. They were still so young; especially compared to...a monster's lifespan..._

_A sigh left Sans as he closed his eyes and pinched the bone between them. He wished his brother was here; Papyrus' endless supply of kindness and unwavering_ _positivity were better suited for tackling issues like these. As Sans would know, considering how often he needed the taller skeleton's aforementioned kindness and_ _positivity in the past. How long he himself had been dealing with issues almost unnervingly similar to Frisk's..._

_...Geez. They were more a kid after his own heart than he thought._

_............_

_No matter how much he wished it, Papyrus wasn't here. Neither was Toriel, or Asgore, or anyone else that was more better equipped to handle this type of situation_ _than he was. He was the one Frisk had unloaded everything onto. His was the presence under which they cracked. Whether that was because it was him they wanted to talk_ _to from the start, or only because he was the last in line to speak with them, he knew not. And he thought better than to ask for clarification. No matter how intended_ _it was, it fell to him to be the one to comfort and console the fearful child. What would Pap say if he were here? What would Tori say?_

_...What would_ Sans _say?_

_"...i know, for a fact, that one bad day...doesn't undo all the progress you've already made toward getting better. no matter how bad it may seem._ that's _what i was trying to say just now. an' proof of that is that you've opened up and let someone know how you're really feeling, instead of...y'know. or instead of_ _keepin' a lid on it and brushing everyone off when they keep asking if something's wrong-"_

_"Like what_ you _do?"_

_Their pointed, almost accusatory, tone left little to be desired, but Sans knew he had no right to argue. Or, rather, he knew better than to argue. "...yep. ya got_ _me there." He planted his chin atop their head, his pupils going dim. "i do tend to do that a lot, huh?"_

_Frisk sniffled loudly in reply. The breeze blowing in through the ajar window was warm and smelled like honeysuckles._

_"...and that's what makes me not a good role model." His arms tightened around them. "it's an old, bad habit of mine, kiddo; you shouldn't try to copy it."_

_"...Why not?" That undesirable tone remained in their voice as they pointed out, "I mean, Papyrus was just caught up in a_ car wreck _, and you've acted as_ _though it was just another Thursday. Bottling things up seems to be working out_ great _for you, so why not me?"_

_A long pause followed their remarks. So long that the wind chime had gone silent once more._

_"...is that what you think?"_

_His voice had become low and solemn._

_"is that_ really _what you think??"_

_Frisk flinched. "I-"_

_Before they could do any more backpedaling, Sans firmly planted both hands on their shoulders and turned them to face him. They looked frightened, but not so much_ _so when they saw that his expression was more upset than it was angry._

_"you think i wasn't_ bothered _by what happened? that i wasn't up all that night worrying myself sick?? frisk, i was_ terrified _when i heard about the_ _accident! yes, papyrus walked away from it without a scratch, but i was absolutely beside myself with fear! the only reason i acted as though i_ wasn't _was_ _because he's the one that needed to be worried about, not me! and it_ still _terrifies me; that one little slip-up, another every day accident could mean i'd_ _never see my little brother again!!"_

_His breathing had gone huffy and heavy by the time he finished, a thin layer of sweat beading along his brows. His shoulders were trembling, and he blinked back_ _his tears before any could escape._

_And Frisk, their hand no longer on their face, just continued to stare up at him in blank surprise before guilt flashed across their features, and they turned_ _their head toward the space between them. "...Sorry."_

_Sans let out a deep, long sigh and hung his head, his grip on their shoulders loosening._

_"don't be," he told them, his voice low and solemn once more. "i repeat: old, bad habit."_

_There was another long pause, though this one wasn't quite so tense as the previous one._

_"...tell ya what." He looked back up, a small smile curving his mouth. "if i promise to try and do better to break that bad ol' habit habit of mine, you gotta also_ _promise to try not letting my bad habit become yours, too. that sound like a good deal?"_

_Frisk said nothing, but answered him with an eventual nod. Sans held one hand out to them, inviting them to shake it and seal the deal. And Frisk, keeping a_ _watchful and wary eye on his palm the entire time, hesitantly reached their own up to take it._

_The room was then filled with the distinct sound of wet air chaotically escaping a whoopee cushion._

_Sans chuckled as Frisk pulled their hand away, the offending noise-maker sitting squarely in_ their _palm. "heheheheh. i couldn't resist. sorry."_

_"No, you're not," they rebutted, frowning in self-disappointment as they peeled the re-inflating cushion off their skin. Even the figurines and Mettaton faces on_ _the bookshelf seemed to look on in displeasure._

_Even still, a smile was tugging at the corners of Frisk's mouth. "you're right," he confirmed with an unashamed shrug. "i'm not."_

_The gag was returned, a grin still threatening to break out across their face. The sight made Sans' grow bigger. It was good to see them smile again. They had a_ _great smile; he remembered telling them that himself. One that could light up a whole room that they shouldn't be trying to suppress or hide-_

_Then the loud rumbling of an empty stomach made the smile on his face falter._

_"...which...returns us..." He replaced the whoopee cushion back in his pocket, subsequentially replacing the light-hearted atmosphere for a more serious, somber_ _one. "to why you haven't even left this bed in the past two days."_

_If there were any chances a full-fledged smile would appear on their face, that statement alone crushed them completely. Their shoulders sinking, Frisk turned_ _away from him, and brought their knees back up to their chest to tightly hug them._

_Sans pulled them into another embrace, propping his chin on the crown of their head. Even though the always funny whoopee-cushion-in-the-hand trick brought a much_ _welcome change of pace, he knew it was only a band-aid solution. The kid still had too much weighing them down to just leave things as they were; that would spell out_ _much more dire consequences further down the line. There was still work to be done._

_"it's not true, y'know," he began, treading carefully and speaking gently. "all that stuff about being replaced and unneeded and us only keeping you around because_ _you're 'useful'; none of that is even remotely true. you know that."_

_He paused for a moment. "...you_ do _know that." He lifted his head and looked down at their face, a wary look on his. "don't you..?"_

_Frisk's eyes slowly wandered around the room, as if searching for something. They seemed to shrink in on themself as they did._

_"...I do," they eventually answered, their voice soft and tight. "Of_ course _I do. I know you all love me, and want me around, and that everything I said_ _before isn't true! B-But..."_

_They shrunk even more. Shivering, they reached a hand up to cling to his sleeve and buried their now grimacing face into his shoulder. He felt two points of_ _moisture seep through the light blue fabric._

_"Sometimes..." Being muffled by layers of clothing wasn't the only reason their voice sounded constricted. "It's just too_ easy _to believe it is..."_

_Sans was grateful they didn't see how devastated the expression that flashed across his face was. "yeah..." He leaned his forehead against the side of their head,_ _a hand he had to stop from shaking entangling itself in their short brown hair. "sure does feel that way sometimes, don't it..?"_

_A kid after his own heart, indeed. With this bleak an outlook, if they were a monster, Sans had little doubt they would've 'fallen down' a long time ago._

_Made him wonder what had prevented him from 'falling down' a long time ago, himself..._

_"i s'pose...it all boils down to being able to remind yourself of what's true, and what isn't. and when it gets too hard to do that yourself, you've got plenty of_ _people that love 'n care about you that'll help remind you of what's what without hesitation. like your mom an' asgore an' undyne an' alph an' pap...and your big bro_ _sans."_

_Frisk didn't reply; only the rustle of fabric as they clutched at his arm more tightly, more desperately, answered him._

_"...and big bro sans is sensing you need some of that remindin' right now, huh?" He raised his head and smiled down at them, his fingers slowly combing through_ _their hair. "like i said: without hesitation._

_"we'll tackle this thing one thing at a time. for starters, that talk about 'divine intervention' and punishment is - pardon my french - a bunch of_ baloney _._ _from what i gather 'bout your old home life, it wasn't pretty. one might even call it 'unhealthy' or 'toxic'. you were in a bad situation back then and, even though_ _your methods and desired end results were a little..." He filled in the unspoken words with an 'ehh' and a seesaw hand gesture. "-you got yourself out of it. that's_ _deserving of praise, not punishment._

_"and even though a bunch of bad sh-..._ things _happened afterwards...in the scientific world we call that 'correlation without causation'. which is just a_ _fancy way of saying that everything that happened after you came to the underground was_ related _to why you came, yes, but not_ caused _by it. a whole bunch_ _of extenuating circumstances that began long before you came - hell, long before you were even born - caused all the bad stuff; it was definitely not some sort of_ _'divine punishment' tailor-made for you because you decided to leave that toxic environment you called home._

_"and, speaking of which..." His smile fell a little, his embrace strengthening. "frisk...wishing you never existed is-it's really bad; you know that, right? if you_ _didn't exist, you'd never get to feel this breeze, smell those flowers, listen to that wind chime, get that sense of accomplishment when you finish that puzzle! you'd_ _never get to meet us or get to know us or become friends with us either. if you were never around...who knows how much longer we all would've remained stuck_ _underground, instead of living free in the sunlight?"_

_When that didn't elicit any sort of response, he added, "even if you might feel that way sometimes, that it'd be better for everyone if someone else had taken your_ _place, or that you were never... just know that_ i'm _happy you were born. that i'll_ always _be grateful you're part of my life. that_ you _were the_ _one that set us all free."_

_He closed his eyes and pressed his smiling mouth against their head. "and i wouldn't have anyone else ever take your place."_

_Things were quiet for a moment before Frisk sniffled and un-buried their face, not so sneakily wiping their nose against his sleeve as they did._

_Sans chuckled softly and tousled their hair. "pretty sure the same goes for everyone else, too, though i can't really speak on their behalf's. you're irreplaceable,_ _frisk. to me, to everyone...and especially to tori. and, i'm sure, so were all the other kids she's taken care of, and any future kids she'll watch over, if she_ _decides to have any more."_

_He was mostly positive he imagined it, but Sans thought he heard the door faintly creak again. Frisk was not so desperately clinging to his arm any more._

_"and that stuff about being kept around because you're 'useful'; buddy, that kinda jargon only applies to microwaves and toaster ovens. that's why they call 'em_ _'appliances'." He caught the snicker they tried to hide in a cough. "your worth isn't measured by how good you are at doing something, but by how good a person you_ _are. that make sense?"_

_Frisk shrugged, but he got the impression that they got the idea._

_"and only being good for working out other people's issues...again: a bunch of baloney. it's never one person's job to solve the problems of everyone else, even if_ _that person is, for example, an ambassador. that's why you've got people like tori and asgore helping you out behind the scenes. and, well...yeah, that might have been_ _what it took to get us all to the surface, but it's not your sole purpose in life to keep fixing our mistakes."_

_He gave them a wink. "that part of your life's over now. you've done enough for us."_

_The red flush that came from all their earlier crying swiftly, suddenly drained from their face. Sans' expression slipped. "um. bad...word choice?"_

_Frisk looked as though they were considering saying something, then thought against it and looked off to the side._

_"...right. okay. bad word choice." He cleared his throat, trying not to make it sound awkward. "sorry. didn't know. will avoid using again in the future."_

_Frisk appeared a little more relaxed. Sans silently pondered, briefly, why those words, of all things, would give them that reaction._

_"and, lastly...there's the matter of bucket-kicking."_

_He inhaled deeply, sighing loudly on the exhale. Gently, he cupped one hand on their cheek, to turn their head so they were face to face. He did and said no more_ _until Frisk lifted their bloodshot, puffy eyes to meet his kind, patient gaze._

_"kid. buddy. kiddo. frisk...the truth of the matter is that no one ever truly knows what the future holds. whether we'll all get to live 'til we're old and_ _grey...or if something else will make us punch the clock early. sure, that'll suck if that's the case, but as long as you live life to the fullest, and enjoy yourself_ _while doing so, then who cares how early you'll clock in, amiright? and, when the day comes that it's your number that's up..."_

_Even though his face stayed pointed at theirs, his sockets stared through them, his gaze unfocused and his mind elsewhere._ _The following silence was the longest one yet._

_"......we'll cross that bridge when we get to it." His eyes refocused, and he gave Frisk a wink. "or burn it. whichever the situation calls for."_

_Frisk blinked back at him. They still looked unsure._

_"...but...if it_ does _end up being that we'll have to do this all over again..."_

_His pupils, going dim for only a moment, stared straight into their eyes as he gave Frisk the kindest, gentlest, most reassuring smile he could muster._

_"i look forward to doin' another go 'round with you."_

_Frisk's eyes grew wide, the rest of their expression going blank. They kept his gaze for a while, totally speechless, before it slowly fell and rested on his_ _chest. They remained still appearing unable to speak._

_When they started lifting their arms, he opened his out wide. About time, he thought, that they finally returned his hu-_

_The front of his shirt was lifted up, then after much ducking and twisting and squirming, it was put back down._

_His pupils were shrunken white pinpricks. His expression was incredibly vacant and un-smiling. The skeleton had become so still it was as if he was made of marble._

_This...was...new._

_"...I can get out if this is too weird."_

_Sans blinked dumbly, struggling to remember how to form words. "i. um. well. that is. uh." He shifted, suddenly very conscious of how his body moved and acted._ _"it's. er. n-not_ weird _, per say."_

_"Is it making you uncomfortable?"_

_He shook his head, before remembering it was pointless to. "n-no, no. i mean. it's..._ different _. a-and pretty unexpected, sure. but i'm. it's not_ _uncomfortable. not. really."_

_No response._

_"...i-it'd be less awkward," he floundered, a thin layer of sweat coating his skull. "if i, uh, y'know, had a reason?"_

_After a moment of silence, he felt a shrug. "Truth is...I kinda always wanted to try this. 'Cause I thought, in here, it'd feel like, I dunno, a bigger, better_ _hug? Like all of you is hugging all of me all at once? It's hard to explain. Sorry..."_

_Sans let out a weak, almost croaking chuckle. "is that all?"_

_After another silent moment, he felt a tickle. "Not...exactly."_

_Sans was suddenly very unsure what to do with his hands._

_"It's...stupid. You'd laugh at me if I told you..."_

_He gulped back the sudden lump in his nonexistent throat. "howzabout you, uh, y-you let me be the judge of that. c'mon, out with it. why're you in there?"_

_And after another long, border-lining supremely awkward pause, Sans felt Frisk curl up tighter inside his chest cavity as they answered, feeling the side of their_ _head rest against his ribs where, if he had one, his heart would be,_

_"Because...you make me feel_ safe _."_

_Every last one of Sans' thoughts of worry and nervousness and awkwardness floated away. His expression became vacant once again, but all the tension was now gone_ _from his bones, his posture more relaxed and natural._

_"...yeah?" His voice was soft and small, and with a touch of wonder seeped into it._

_He felt Frisk nod, and could tell they carried out their every move with extreme caution._

_His eyes looked as far down at his chest as they could manage. "despite...everything?"_

_He felt Frisk nod again, though this one did not come as immediately as its predecessor._

_Sans, realizing that he'd been holding his breath, released it and leaned back against the window. "wow," was all he could manage to say._

_He felt Frisk wriggle, a little, still being extra careful with how they moved. "I-I mean, you_ all _do. In your own ways. But with you it's...different?_ _Stronger??" He heard them groan. "I should get out I told you it was stupid-"_

_"no, no." Sans laid an arm across his abdomen (it still came as a shock that he felt something solid there), which made them pause. "it's not stupid, frisk._ _wanting to feel safe is never stupid. if you wanna stay in there a little longer, that's fine with me. i told you, it's not making me uncomfortable. actually..."_

_He looked up at the star-spotted ceiling, a small smile curving his mouth as he laid both arms across his middle. "it's...kinda nice. in it's own, surprisingly_ _unique way."_

_It took a moment, but Sans eventually felt the mass inside him settle. He felt the warmth of their breath caress his bones, felt their chest move with each_ _breath. That, too, started to settle, slow, become calmer and deeper._

_"just, uh, don't fall asleep in there." He gave the lump beneath his arms a poke. "i am_ not _looking forward to that mess of a conversation with tori. even_ _if it gives me the perfect opportunity to tell someone i'm 'with child'."_

_He felt their shoulders shake with suppressed giggles. His brow arched in amusement. "y'know, papyrus coulda done a whole lot better back when he was trying to_ _capture you."_

_Though he couldn't see it, he could feel their brow equally arching in amusement as they asked. "Is that right?"_

_"yup. cuz, if this proves anything, it's that the most effective way a skeleton can trap a human is by using a_ rib cage _."_

_That got Frisk laughing so much they snorted. More than once. And Sans thought that this was nice, too. Feeling laughter other than his own fill and shake his_ _chest was a new sensation. And it would probably be considered strange and frowned upon from an outsider's point-of-view. But it was still nice, to him. To know the_ _kid felt safe with him, despite everything..._

_A small, peaceful smile took up half his face as he closed his eyes, and enjoyed this new, nice sensation._

_Yeah. It was really, really nice..._

_Frisk started squirming again after their laughter finally died out. "O-Okay, okay. I'm ready to come out now."_

_Sans opened one eye and languidly stared down at his chest. "what's the password?"_

_"I am the legendary fart master."_

_"nice try, but no dice."_

_"...Ketchup."_

_"nope."_

_"Puns?"_

_"nuh-uh."_

_"Sans!"_

_"are you even trying? c'mon, frisk, you know me better than that."_

_Frisk was quiet for a while, then Sans felt two light taps against the back of his sternum._ Knock, knock.

_He grinned. Finally. "who's there?"_

_"Peas."_

_"peas who?"_

_"Peas let me come out my legs are going numb."_

_Sans chuckled in satisfaction. "a little rusty, coulda made it more food-oriented, but good enough. password accepted." He straightened his posture and uncrossed_ _his arms. "mind your head, kiddo. and, well, everything else, too."_

_After more ducking and twisting and squirming, Frisk was once again sitting among planets and rockets. They stretched their arms and unfolded their legs, wincing_ _as blood started circulating to their toes again._

_Sans, after smoothing out his shirt, started to smooth out their hair, which was sticking up in odd angles in odd places. "while i gotcha here," he said casually._ _"the next time you want to, y'know...'cuddle', it's usually in everyone's best interest if you ask permission first."_

_Frisk stiffened and whipped their head toward him, horrid realization dawning on their face._

_"hey, it's okay." He held his hands up in a 'calm down' gesture, his smile as laid-back as his attitude. "it was a new thing for everyone involved; we were both_ _inexperienced. i'm not mad or anythin', just shoot me a warning next time, 'kay? so, c'mon, no need for that face."_

_He reached back over and ruffled the hair he just smoothed out. "geez, you're lookin' like you just committed-"_

_Frisk wrapped their arms around him before he could finish that thought, their face pressed against his sternum. They started to tremble._

_"h-hey, hey. it's okay." Awkwardly, he patted their shoulder. "i promise it's okay. you didn't know. and i'm sure you definitely would've asked if you did kn-"_

_"Thank you."_

_Sans froze._

_"Thank you..._ so much _...for everything."_

_The context finally sinking in, Sans smiled broadly and properly returned their embrace._

_"any time, frisk."_

_"I love you."_

_"...love you, too, kiddo."_

_They stayed like that, in peaceful contentment, until Frisk's stomach growled once again. It was like the thing had a mind of its own, and a penchant for making_ _noise at - depending on who was asked - inappropriate or perfect times._

_There was a small blush in Frisk's cheeks as they pulled away and rubbed one of their eyes. "And, with that, I must be off. The pie. It's calling me. 'Eat me,' it_ _says. 'Eat me!!'"_

_Sans laughed at the exaggerated voice they used when speaking on behalf of the pastry. "you'd best be off then. one does not simply ignore the call of the pie."_

_They grinned and giggled at each other before Frisk eased themself off the bed, and made a beeline to the beckoning butterscotch. Sans, after easing himself off,_ _stayed by the bed frame, and watched silently as they earnestly gobbled down the dessert._

_Watching them go at it, Sans felt his smile lessen a bit. As much as he didn't wish it...part of him knew this wasn't going to be the last time they ended up in_ _this type of situation. Neither would this be the last time it would fall to him to diffuse it. And if this was going to become a regular occurrence..._

_Welp._

_Guess he just needed to learn how to read situations better, and diffuse them before they went too far._

_As he came to this decision, he knew he wasn't imagining it when he heard the door creak, because he glanced up to see it standing open ajar. A figure loomed_ _beyond the crack, one that was tall and white-furred and silently peeking in. He caught the figure's eye, and gave them a thumbs-up. He thought he also caught the_ _figure smile before the door closed shut._

_Frisk never noticed. Either that, or they just pretended they didn't._

_Sans continued staring at the door. Or rather, the poster pinned to it. It was a promotional poster that announced the locations and dates for Mettaton's new tour_ _(apparently he was going global year). One date and location in particular caught Sans' attention. He didn't know why, at first, but when he remembered why it stood_ _out so much, he was struck with inspiration._

_"y'know what?" he asked, getting Frisk to turn back to him, the lower half of their face littered with crumbs. "you've been workin' real hard lately, haven't'cha?_ _so hard, in fact, i think you deserve a break. has papyrus told you anythin' about the plans he's cooking up for the summer?"_

\----

Your chest feels sore.

So does your neck, sort of. But not as much as your chest. Specifically, your rib cage.

Sans has never held you that tightly before. No one has, now that you think about it. (...Not protectively, anyway.) In fact you didn't realize how tightly he had been squeezing you until it reached that point, when it became too hard to breathe, and too painful to try.

And that's all you've been able to feel lately. Not the texture of the clothes covering you. Not the touch of metal beneath you. Not even the softness and warmth of 'Mom's loving embrace, which you are currently curled up in.

Just...pain.

And even though you know it's probably a bad thing to be so focused on it, it's still _something_. As opposed to complete numbness, you much prefer feeling hurt than feeling nothing at all.

...

Physically, all you can feel anymore is pain. _Emotionally_ , on the other hand, there are so many feelings brewing within you it's almost overwhelming.

There's a lot for you to think about. So many emotions to sort through and information to process. It's hard to decide where to start there's just so much going on...but the beginning, you've learned, is always a good place to start.

You don't remember which memory you settled on when Dr. Gaster 'paid a visit' (his most recent one, at least). And when his 'visit' ended, and you 'woke up', you remember feeling dizzy and like your ears were going to burst (a build-up of pressure from being so deep underground, 'Aunt' Alphys had reasoned). It made things hard to hear, like every sound was coming at you from the other side of a thick wall. That's why you didn't hear when your 'family' was calling out to you, trying to dissuade you from taking the doctor's hand so he could whisk you away, as some had put it, into the darkness.

You were whisked away, alright. But by someone much more solid and 'present', who almost did not stay that way when he returned you to safety.

You've never been more scared for Sans in your entire life. To see him like that, so soon after 'waking'; needless to say, it makes you never want to shut your eyes again. And even though he's recovered from all that 'glitching', he's become so fatigued he can barely even stand on his own anymore.

~~And it's all your fault.~~

After Dr. Gaster's parting words, 'Aunt' Undyne's first impulse was to dismantle the machine. And by 'dismantle', she of course meant turning it into Swiss cheese with her spears. She was reminded by both her wife and Sans that, since none among you all had any idea how the machine worked or how to operate it, destroying or further damaging it in any way was a very very very bad idea that should be avoided at all costs.

Undyne was livid. Unable to let out any of her rage by beating something up, she instead opted to scream, at the top of her lungs, some _very_ colorful and creative swears you dare not even _consider_ thinking about repeating, lest you send 'Mom' into cardiac arrest.

The fact that no one even thought to try and cover your ears when the cursing began made you realize just how much worse the situation's become since you've been 'asleep'. Being informed of what's transpired during that time confirmed as much.

Now, here you are.

Discussing how, exactly, to deal with the _great gaping hole_ in the time machine.

'Mom', sounding like she's absolutely _had it_ , wanted to take you straight to the nearest hospital. Of course, she's wanted this from the start, but she's never sounded more adamant yet desperate to do so than right now. That made her reaction that much more heartbroken when she was reminded, grimly, that Dr. Gaster could still come back at any time, and create even more dilemma and conflict that would further inhibit you from getting the medical attention you need.

Something had to be done about the 'rift' - as everyone's been calling that darkness inside the machine - before you could be taken care of. But differing opinions about what should be done, and the reasoning behind them, quickly made the discussion evolve into a bitter conflict that's making everyone's morals and beliefs fiercely clash.

...No.

Not 'everyone'.

Everyone but _you_.

Not once, in all the talk about how to decide Dr. Gaster's fate, has anyone thought to ask you about it. It's not like you've been the one who's been most affected by all this, the one the doctor's been after all this time, after all! No; you're just a sick little kid who needs to be quiet and rest while the adults decide what's best for you, without two cents of consideration for what you think about all this.

~~Just like old times, huh?~~

...What _do_ you think about all this, anyway?

Where do you stand on what should happen next?

What do you want to happen to Dr. Gaster?

You quietly sigh; no one notices. Dr. Gaster. A monster shrouded in mystery, especially to you. You've always been MIA whenever he's around; you've never seen his face nor spoken a word to him. And if you have, you certainly can't remember ever doing so. You never had a chance to properly form an opinion about that mystery man.

Everyone else has, though. They've been able to speak with him, ask him of his intentions, talk with him face to face (sorta). The only instance you ever came close to interacting with him, like everyone else has, was mere minutes ago. And when you saw him, when you finally met the man behind the mask...

Needless to say...he didn't really match any of the descriptions the others have used when talking about him. Those descriptions differed from person to person, but none of them painted the doctor in a good light. Even from the image you've formed of him from his old journal entries, he didn't feel like the same person now as he was back then. In the videos, he looked confident and proud. But now...

He looked...sad. Meek. Cautious. Humble.

Lonely.

He looked like the loneliest person in the world.

Maybe that's why you didn't second guess yourself when you tried to take his offered hand. You did not sense any malice or ill-will from him; he just looked like he wanted some company. You could feel that he had no bad intentions for you whatsoever, even after he let you be and returned to the darkness.

_**THE DOCTOR WILL SEE YOU NOW** _

Why would he say that if he _did_ have something bad planned for you? The others said that he told them he didn't mean you any harm...

But, apparently, that wasn't good enough for them. Because you were still taken away from him, without question and without hesitation. They couldn't trust his word.

~~More like they couldn't trust your judgement.~~

And because they didn't trust him ~~or you~~ , Sans risked his life to pull you away from a situation he deemed dangerous. That everyone but you deemed dangerous. Without any consideration for your opinion.

~~That'd just inconvenience them even more than you have already.~~

You vacantly stare at nothing, your heart feeling like it's sinking. You know why they're doing this. That everything they're doing for you - getting you away from the doctor, trying to decide what should be done next ~~without consulting you at all~~ \- they do because they're worried about you. Because they love and care about you. You know it's not because they don't trust you; you really _do_ know that!

...But...right now...

It's just too easy to believe otherwise.

You feel your heart sink even further, all the way down to your stomach.

You never did ask for any of this. To become such an important part of everyone's lives. So excessively, unnecessarily important that, the minute they start to believe something's wrong, they'd drop _everything_ to comfort you, to assure you, to make sure you wouldn't inconvenience them by doing anything _stupid_.

They have lives of their own. Lives _outside_ of you. Their lives shouldn't revolve around one snot-nosed, needy little brat.

But they do.

And you made it that way. Like the snot-nosed, needy, horribly selfish little brat you are.

It's just like what 'Aunt' Alphys said. Like what Flowey said.

You _are_ the fate of the Underground. Of the whole _world_.

And your old timelines are not the only things you keep chained to yourself.

......

It's not like you wanted it to be this way. You _never_ wanted it to be this way. But, as it has been patiently explained to you many a time already, extenuating circumstances catalyzed long before you were even conceived made things the way they are. And you're powerless to change it. Even with all your determination.

Fact is, it's _because_ you're so 'determined' that things are the way they are. That the fate of _everything_ is so dependent on your mortality. Your role in the grand scheme of things started because you saw no point in continuing your story, and now it's become so that yours, along with everyone else's, will never know the peace of getting to its end.

Isn't that just. So. Freaking. _Hilarious_?

.........

You're reminded of something Alphys once said. Back when she was under the assumption something could be done to change things, so that it didn't have to be this way. You understand now, why it bothered you so much when she compared your acts of 'saving' to a video game mechanic.

Because it is.

_Everything_ is.

It's just like Flowey said: This is all just a _game_.

Encounters with monsters that resulted in fights. 'Bosses' you needed to get past to move forward. The fact you've been calling them 'save points' really should've given it away sooner. You're inside a _video game_. That's your reality.

And you? The role you play in it?

You're the silent protagonist. The avatar that moves around and interacts with everything. The _placeholder_ acting on behalf of the 'player'; the one that gives you direction and commands. Commands you had no choice but to carry out, no matter your own personal objections.

After all, you're just a character on a screen. Who cares what you think? Who wants to know what you want to do?

Since when were you the one in control?

............

...Why have you been thinking about all this again?

You blink heavily, as if you're still not fully woken up from a long nap. You're surprised at yourself, for how lost in thought you've been. How long have you been out of it? Have there been any new developments? Has anything changed?

...Judging by all the growling remarks and bitter retorts, no, it hasn't.

The 'rift' is still open. None of the machine's controls have been touched. Everyone is still at odds with each other over what the next course of action should be. No one's thought to consult you on the matter.

Everything's still the same. Nothing's changed at all.

...Except, maybe, the wall of darkness the person everyone's at odds over disappeared into.

It draws your gaze and holds it steadfast. It hasn't really changed, in the sense that it's maintained a consistent behavior; it's still the same. But it's the fact that it's not _still_ (nor has it ever been, as far as you know) what makes it something that's not still the same. Quite the contradiction, honestly.

Your head tilts a little to one side in curiosity. You haven't really paid it much mind before, now that you think about it. This tear in spacetime opening a way to the 'timeline graveyard' Dr. Gaster seemed to have been inviting you into. Other things had preoccupied you too much for you to really _look_ at it before. Now that you are...in your eyes, the darkness is more contrary with itself than you previously believed.

It looks as solid as stone, yet fluid as ink. It feels sinister and threatening, yet serene and welcoming. It feels like failure and opportunity. It feels like ruin and rejuvenation. It feels like loss and gain. It feels like endless nothingness. It feels like unlimited potential. It feels like...like...

Unfinished business.

The longer you regard the void, the more another feeling rises within you. A feeling you feel as though it's been decades since you last experienced it. A swelling sensation that makes your body feel less numb, your mind less cloudy.

Makes you feel absolutely disgusted with yourself for how _whiny_ you've been.

So you never wanted things to be this way; so _what_? Being all 'woe is me' and throwing yourself a pity party accomplishes nothing! And so what if you didn't ask for all this? Doesn't change the fact that this is always what it's been.

You hold a great power within you. And that power holds the potential to do terrible things...but it holds an equal amount of potential to do good things, too. It's only a matter of how you use it.

You never asked for this. But that doesn't mean you're not going to squander and waste the opportunities this has given you.

Not anymore.

It's _your_ body. _Your_ soul. _Your_ determination.

_Your. **Choice.**_

...Now there's only the matter of how to go through with it _without_ anyone trying to stop you.

You need a plan. You need a distraction. You need something that would get and keep you out of 'Mom's iron grip. You just need that one opportune moment to shock and disarm them. You need...

How did Sans describe it again?

Concentration, visualization, and energy. Concentration, visualization, and energy...

\----

"I say we let this _whole section_ of the Core take a lava bath!"

"And that is any better than wanting only the machine to be destroyed??"

"that'll still destablize the only thing keeping the rift from doing to us what it did to gaster and the others!"

"I KNOW that, knucklehead! Which is why _you_ need to hurry up and remember how to close it already!! And close it FOR GOOD!!"

"ARE WE REALLY TO FORSAKE THE DOCTOR THEN!? TO CONDEMN HIM TO REMAIN ALONE IN THE DARKNESS FOR THE REST OF ETERNITY!?"

"I-It's not like anyone's saying we _want_ Dr. Gaster to stay trapped! J-Just that it's far too dangerous to keep the rift open!"

"So we're to let the others' decision - their _deaths_ \- be for naught!?"

"and how can we be so sure that bastard wasn't just _making_ them do that??"

"UURGH THIS IS GETTING US NOWHERE! OUR ARGUING HAS BECOME REDUNDANT AND NOT AT ALL CONSTRUCTIVE! WE MUST REACH A CONSENSUS! PREFERABLY BEFORE ONE OF US SAYS OR DOES SOMETHING THEY CANNOT TAKE BA-"

A loud gasp dispeled the tension, roused them and snapped them to attention. Every head whipped around to the source of the noise, and it soon became abundantly clear to the gathered why Toriel was in such shock.

" _Frisk!??_ "

The human was curled up in her arms, then wasn't. Then they were. Then they weren't. Then they were. Every other second, their figure vanished; faded in and out and became transparent, intangible. Like Toriel was holding a mere ghost-copy of her child.

"Frisk, what is happening to you?!" she beseeched as the others - their disagreements all but forgotten - gathered round the panicking mother and her disappearing child. "Can you hear me?!"

By the look of it, they couldn't. They were completely silent as they phased in and out of reality, their face screwed up in what looked to be pain. Or maybe it was thought; hard to tell when their moments of transparency started happening sporadically, instead of at regular time intervals.

"Dr. Alphys, what is happening?!" Beyond distressed, Toriel was able to pry her eyes away from the in/corporeal body she clutched to stare at the scientist among them. "Do you know what this is?!"

Alphys' mouth opened and closed rapidly, incoherent mumbles spilling out of it as she tried to find the words. Or any, by that matter. That's when she froze, something other than the disappearing human catching and holding her attention, her eyes growing wide behind her glasses. "W-What the..?"

Even though the sight of Frisk disappearing was an alarming one in and of itself, the figure appearing mere yards away from where the monsters were gathered was just as (perhaps even more) an alarming sight. It was white and formless and translucent, and seemed to be flickering in and out of reality, just as Frisk was.

...Which was...uncanny.

It was soon realized that the figure, whenever Frisk became more see-through, appeared to become _less_ see-through, less formless, less like a white blob and more like...like...

Several eyes darted between the two figures who were phasing in and out of reality, the beginnings of a horrid theory rising in each gaze. Was Frisk s-

There was a blinding flash of light, accompanied by the crackle of electricity, and Toriel was suddenly hugging herself.

Another loud gasp rang out.

It did not come from any of the six monsters gathered around each other. It came from the human child standing a few meters away from them, right where the white figure used to be.

Their posture was awkward and their expression frazzled, like they had just stepped off a very intense roller coaster. They gasped like a fish out of water, their eyes bulging like one, too.

Then they rolled back, and with a moan, Frisk pitched forward.

Disoriented from the flash of light and overall shock, the monsters' reactions were delayed when Frisk started to fall. No one had recovered in time to stop them from hitting the ground, but they did so themself.

By stumbling into one of the six generators that stood erect like pillars.

The six monsters froze in place, each in different variants of taking a step forward. The only time they could see the line which they could not cross was when someone crossed it, or came into direct contact with it. The space along the line would blur, in the same way visible waves of heat would distort how something appeared. It happened when Alphys touched this invisible border. It happened when Sans darted back and forth across it.

And it happened again when Frisk staggered through it.

Even though them being on the other side of the veil wasn't cause for alarm (nothing along the lines of what happened to Sans and Alphys when they interacted with it appeared to be happening to them), the six monsters unable to cross that veil were still awash with worry for Frisk's well-being. They were slumped forward and shivering, their fingers desperately clutching to anything on the generator's surface that was sturdy enough to act as hand-holds. They looked ready to fall over at any given moment; they were just as disoriented (no, even _more_ ) by the inexplicable chain of events that just occurred.

Well...maybe not _totally_ inexplicable.

The spotlight seemed to just _adore_ shining on Sans as of late; he found himself, once again, under the hesitant, questioning, desperate stares of the five monsters around him. He was somewhat more prepared for it this time around, however. Because if what he suspected just happened did just happen, then there really was no one better suited for handling this situation than he.

"deep breaths, kiddo," he informed Frisk, his smile hesitant and his voice a little strained. "deep, slow breaths. first time's never a walk in the park; you gotta let yourself calm down, and reorient yourself before-"

A groan was the only warning they received before Frisk's upper half folded over, and they vomitted.

"-...well, that."

It wasn't a pretty sight, made even less pretty when added to the fact that those watching from across the line could do nothing to console or comfort the sick child, lest the effects of exposure to the rift endangered them. All they could do was watch, and wait for the stomach-emptying to end.

Which happened much sooner than expected, and with not a lot to show for it, considering how much noise they were making. Was it normal for it to look like coffee grounds..?

Either way, it left Frisk even more a sniveling wreck than before. Their knees knocked, and they were on the verge of collapsing into the puddle of sick they just made. Those across the way wanted even more to have them back on their side.

"Oh," Toriel murmured through the hand that covered her mouth. "My poor child..."

Frisk inhaled sharply, then spat into the puddle at their feet, no doubt trying to get an unpleasant taste out of their mouth.

"Just let it out, Frisk," Undyne encouraged, the corner of her mouth twitching. "Just let it all out."

And they did, eventually, then wiped their mouth against the back of an over-sized shirt sleeve.

"THERE YOU GO." Papyrus' voice was level and soothing, despite the fact that he was cringing. "YOU FEEL BETTER NOW THAT YOU HAVE ALL THAT NASTY STUFF OUT, RIGHT?"

By all appearances, they did. They were even starting to right themself, slowly.

"And, now that you are-" Asgore was smiling weakly yet patiently, and holding his arms out in invitation. "-because we can't reach you, you must return to us on your own."

"A-And then, y-you can finally get some proper medical attention!" stammered Alphys, disgust and sympathy in her smile. "B-Because I'm gonna stay here and f-figure out how the machine works! So then you won't have to worry about that! C-C'mon, Frisk! You can make it!"

"no rush, though," Sans clarified, standing propped against his brother and smiling through the sweat on his skull. "take your time; no need to over-strain yourself. just, whenever you feel ready, come back over to us."

Frisk was still shivering, but they had pulled themself up the generator enough that their posture was nearly straight. After some steadying breaths, they leaned off of it and released their grip. They swayed a little, but held their ground.

And when they started trudging, all encouragement and patience drained away.

"frisk..." Sans' sockets were wide, his smile gone. "kid what're you doing?"

With their back to the veil, Frisk stood in the center between two generators, and answered in as strong a voice as they could muster,

"I'm gonna go talk to Dr. Gaster."

There was a brief, still second of contemplation, then a chorus of horrified " _What!?_ "s rang out.

"No. Absolutely not!" Being the first to recover from the initial shock, Toriel wasted no time in firmly denying her child's plans. "I forbid it!"

"Why?" Frisk questioned, the effects of the veil somewhat muffling their voice. "You wanted me to see a doctor, didn't you?"

"Yes, of _course_ we do!" Asgore chimed in. "But not one who's intentions are as dubious and unclear as his!

"He _volunteered_ to RIP souls out of their dead bodies!" Undyne recalled. "And that was _before_ he became this elusive, body-snatching bastard who endangered the whole Underground by booting this death trap back up! And you want to walk straight into it!? Meet with him on his home turf where he'll have every advantage?!"

Undyne shook her head and stomped forward a step. "No. Abso-freaking-lutely _not_. Now get your scrawny little butt back over here or I'll-!"

"You'll what?" Frisk provoked. "Get yourself killed?"

That made not only Undyne, but everyone falter. "That's low," she snarled under her breath.

"N-No," Alphys challenged. "I'll just close the rift-!"

"While I'm still in it?" Frisk pointedly asked with an equally pointed step forward.

Alphys, having been on her way to the nearest terminal, froze. She then turned her head to stare at the back of a head of brown hair. "Y...You wouldn't..!"

As their answer, Frisk took another step forward.

As several jaws dropped, Papyrus, shaking his head, pleaded, "FRISK, PLEASE, DO NOT ACT SO RASHLY! WE DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE BEYOND THE RIFT! YOU MAY BE ABLE TO WITHSTAND IT NOW, BUT IF YOU GO IN THERE, YOU MIGHT MEET THE SAME FATE AS THE DOCTOR AND HIS FOLLOWERS!"

"No, I won't," Frisk denied. "It won't do that to me."

"How?" questioned Toriel, her voice straining. "How can you be so sure you will not be lost to us forever if you enter this darkness??"

"...Because..." Their voice had become soft; it sounded like they had just realized something. "I've been in there before."

This claim left the gathered monsters lost for a moment, then realization dawned on them at different intervals. That dark and empty place they saw on the monitors, when they all got their first and only glimpse of a 'save point'; was it the same place as the one that lied beyond the rift?

Either way, their claim was not the least bit reassuring. "W-We still don't know what Dr. Gaster will do to you if y-you go in there!"

"He told you he doesn't want to hurt me," Frisk reminded them. "I don't believe he does, either."

"HE...HE MIGHT BE LYING, FRISK!" Papyrus reasoned, looking pained to reason that way. "HE MIGHT BE TRYING TO DECEIVE YOU! HE-HE MIGHT HAVE BEEN A GOOD MAN LONG AGO, BUT BEING SCATTERED ACROSS TIME AND SPACE MIGHT HAVE CHANGED HIM! AND CHANGED HIM FOR THE WORSE! HE MIGHT DO SOMETHING AWFUL TO YOU IF YOU MEET WITH HIM!!"

"He has been _possessing_ you!" Toriel reminded them, her voice breaking. "And he has done so while you were in a weakened and otherwise susceptible state of being! Do you not think that disproves his claims of not wishing to harm you?!"

Frisk was quiet for a moment, as if thinking something over. "...I'm not saying he hasn't raised any red flags," they eventually answered, carefully. "I'm just saying he could have done a lot worse. But he hasn't. And if he hasn't done anything bad while borrowing my body...I don't think he will if we meet face to face."

"That still does not excuse the fact that he _waited_ to overshadow you until you became ill!"

An even longer pause followed Asgore's reminder. Frisk shifted a little where they stood.

"...I don't think he had a choice."

Before they could be questioned, Frisk elaborated. "It's like...remember what Alphys said? He couldn't reach out or influence other timelines while the resets were happening; he had to wait until they stopped. And then the machine needed repairing; who knows how long it took him to do that? I don't think he was 'waiting' for me to get sick. It just happened that way."

"AND HE COULD NOT HAVE WAITED FOR YOU TO GET BETTER FIRST?" questioned Papyrus.

Frisk, just barely, shook their head. "I don't think so. He said he doesn't mean me any harm, so he probably didn't mean to start doing this when I got sick. He might have been desperate. He might not have had any other choice. Because..."

Again, Frisk sounded like they just realized something.

"I think he's running out of time."

The monsters were reminded, almost simultaneously, of something one of Gaster's followers said before their passing. That the doctor was 'reaching his threshold'.

Even with this reminder, Undyne scoffed. "And that just _excuses_ all the body-snatching, don't it?"

Frisk had nothing to say to this.

"...It _doesn't_!" Undyne emphasized when Frisk wouldn't answer. " _Nothing_ excuses the fact that he took advantage of you and has been _using_ you and screwing around with you and MAKING you believe you should give him a chance!!"

Frisk still would not speak. Their head lowered a fraction.

"He doesn't deserve your sympathy! He doesn't deserve your forgiveness! He doesn't deserve _you_! So let's wash our hands of this whole mess and _forget_  about this bastard!!"

Their shoulders hunched forward a little. Other than that, Frisk did not move or speak.

Undyne, at a loss for what else she could say, looked to the faces around her, silently asking them to back her up. But, judging by the looks she found, the others were as much at a loss as she was.

And it was in that moment of loss that Frisk squared their shoulders, and held their head up.

"I should go." Their voice sounded forcefully even. "He's waiting for me."

And those on the other side of the veil, in powerless despair, could only watch as Frisk drew ever closer into the maw of living darkness-

"you've done enough!!"

-then come to such a sudden halt, just before reaching the second pair of generators, they nearly tripped and fell.

Five heads turned to Sans, who was standing on his own and breathing heavily from it. A twinge of regret hid beneath the almost manic desperation in his expression, which he kept pointed straight at the back of Frisk's head.

"frisk...buddy...you don't have to do this," he reasoned, sounding like he was struggling to keep his voice calm and patient. "i...i know you believe you do, but you don't. just because you think you 'can' doesn't mean you 'have to'."

The others saw him wince, and only a few noticed that Frisk had, too.

"i _know_ you, frisk. i know you're doing this because...because you think it's your _job_ to. that you have to fix everyone's problems, that you _have_ to forgive everyone who wrongs you, that you have to 'save' everyone. but you DON'T have to!"

He held his hands out, a broken smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "you're...you're _way_ too selfless for your own good, kiddo. i- we- all of us here; we've done so much to hurt you. most of the time we did those things without ever knowing how much it hurt you!"

Shame rippled across everyone's faces. "but you...you never resented us. you never held us accountable for what we did. you shouldered all the blame and suffered in silence. after everything we've done to hurt you, you still chose to forgive us, even though we didn't deserve it. not only that, but you set us all free..."

His head, coated with sweat, slowly shook side to side. "you've done so much for us, frisk. while we've done nothing for you..."

Sans paused to catch his breath. Judging by how long the pause lasted, it sounded like he didn't really know where he was going with this train of thought; he just wanted to say something that would make Frisk stop.

And stop, they did. More than that, they had become so still it was like they had turned to stone. After another few seconds, however, they started to shiver.

"......Nothing?"

The shivers evolved into tremors.

" _Nothing_...?"

And as their hands clenched into incredibly tight fists, they yelled at the top of their lungs,

" _NOTHING_?!?!"

All six monsters were taken aback. They had never heard Frisk raise their voice in such rage before. Hell, most of them had never even _seen_ Frisk angry before. Needless to say, it wasn't something they were looking forward to experiencing. "F...Fri-?"

"I HAD _NOTHING_!! I had no friends because no one - I repeat, _no one_ \- wanted to have _anything_ to do with the _FREAK_ that had to dumpster-dive for a scrap of food because I had _nothing_ to eat all week! People who were supposed to teach me, help me grow, _fight_ for me, _gave up_ on me and labeled me a LOST CAUSE the _minute_ I stopped living up to their expectations! I was just _sooo_ much of a hassle to care for my own **mother** said _to my face_ that I was the BIGGEST MISTAKE of her LIFE!! And my fa-!"

The word fell apart in their mouth, and they choked on it. The anger and rage they exuded was completely gone, driven out and replaced by a crushing sense of absolute terror. They became very still and very silent, as though they'd been turned into a statue.

Or as though a big, strong hand had closed around their throat.

Not only Frisk, but everyone had become speechless. It had been one thing to actually see it the way they remembered it, but for Frisk to actually _talk_ about their past? Another thing entirely. And for them to become so paralyzed with fear for even thinking of talking bad about someone from it, even when that person was nowhere near them and could not harm them...

Frisk started shaking again, though definitely not out of anger. Seeming to cave in on themself, they wrapped their arms around themself, gripping the sleeves of their shirt so tightly they were on the verge of being ripped off.

"...He....did..... _horrible_ things t-to me. N-Not just once...b-but over...and over...and _over_...! Until I was so _used_ to it I felt **nothing** when it happened again! And I _never_ knew _WHY_!!"

Their voice was not the only thing that broke by the last word.

"You wanna know _why_ I ran from it all? Why I decided to 'remove' myself from that toxic environment? I did it for _them_. Because I was convinced that they were good people; that the _only_ reason they were so cruel was because _I_ made them that way! That they'd be good people again if _I_ wasn't around anymore! So I ran! I purposefully sought out the one place I was sure no one would ever find me again and I _ran_! I threw myself away - FOR _THEM_ \- because that's all I ever was! _NOTHING_!!!"

Frisk inhaled sharply, and covered their mouth with their hand (whether to suppress sobs or stop themself from throwing up again, unclear). They were not the only one to do so. And never before now had those on the one side of the veil wanted more to be able to reach and comfort the poor child on the other.

"......And then I came here."

Their voice was softer now. Calmer, all the ferocity and anger gone from their demeanor. They stood a little straighter, their hand falling away from their mouth and returning to clutch the sleeve of their opposite arm.

"I came here, and met all of you. I got to know you, to understand you. After each new first meeting, I understood what motivated you a little bit better every time. You say you've done nothing for me but cause me pain..." Their head shook, slowly, side to side. "How can you be so _blind_?

"You gave me food so I wouldn't go hungry. You offered me shelter when you believed I had nowhere else to go. You lifted my spirits with every bad pun and clever prank. You offered me your friendship, even at the cost of your reputation, your future, your dreams, your freedom..."

They were starting to tremble again.

"You gave me guidance so I wouldn't be lost. You gave me the independence to carve my own path. You made sure I knew I had a _choice_..."

Their voice was becoming weaker and more constricted.

"You gave me dreams to believe in. You gave me hope to live on. You gave me _love_..."

All this time, they had spoken without once looking to those they addressed. Even as they turned their head toward them, Frisk's gaze did not meet anyone else's. They only turned their head a little, just enough so that they could see the quivering of their mouth, and the waterfalls streaming down their cheek.

"Is that ' _nothing_ '?"

If anything, _this_ was the most heart-breaking thing they'd ever seen.

"oh, _kid_ ," Sans hoarsely said, his and several others' eyes going misty. "frisk that...that's not what i meant. you _know_ that's not what i meant!"

"My precious child, please understand..." Toriel held her hands in front of her chest, a gesture of pleading that perfectly matched her begging tone of voice. "We just... We cannot let you face something so dangerous on your own."

In the moment of silence that passed, Frisk's lips stopped quivering, the waterfalls stopped flowing, and the half of their expression exposed to the monsters became one of total neutrality before they turned their head away from them.

"You already have."

They spoke in a small, hollow tone of voice. Almost formal; a matter-of-fact kind of tone. There was no force behind their words. No anger nor bitterness or anything that indicated that they were upset or resentful.

And it was exactly that lack of emotion that made their words all the more soul-crushingly hurtful.

Paralyzed and muted by heartbroken anguish, nothing was said nor done by any of the monsters as Frisk, after drying their face on the back of their sleeve (the one they didn't wipe their mouth with earlier), dropped their arms to their sides, stood up straight and held their head high, and drew ever closer to the darkness.

 

 

**Part II**

**Content Warning: Transformations and Body Horror**

 

Their bare feet crossed the sheet metal flooring, which was marred by blackened scorch marks that were at least a decade old and had been left almost completely untouched since then. Farther away from the veil separating them from their family of monsters, and ever closer to the maw of darkness filling the jaws of the skull-like machine before them. As if possessing a mind of its own, the darkness seemed aware of the approaching figure. The tendrils fondling the edges of its cage looked like they were getting more ambitious in extending themselves further out of their containment. Reaching for the child, bidding them to enter the void.

And Frisk was answering this call. Closer and closer their staggering footfalls carried them to the beckoning blackness, against every protest and misgiving plead of those who could not pursue them, lest the darkness' concentrated influence tear them asunder and scatter them mercilessly across time and space. Closer and closer, closer and closer, closer still their fumbling feet brought them to their destination-

Frisk was barely able to pass the second pair of generators marking their path when they collapsed to their elbows and knees, fatigue finally exhausting the last of their strength.

The sight, bizarrely, made some smiles ripple across the sea of faces on the other side of the veil. Any other circumstance, that would've been a cruel, heartless reaction. The fact that these smiles had hints of guilt in them meant their owners knew this as well. But, apparently, they were too ecstatic that Frisk could no longer reach their destination to feel too guilty about smiling because they fell.

"And that settles that!" proclaimed Undyne, being one among those who were smiling. "No way that scumbag doctor's gonna get his slimy hands on you now!"

"Surely, now, you can see the folly of this pursuit?" asked Asgore, being one among those who were not smiling. "You're too weak to continue; you must come back over to us now!"

Frisk, their movements incredibly sluggish, planted their palms against the floor and pushed themself up into a kneeling position. Their upper half remained hunched forward, their shirt so over-sized now it was close to impossible to see the rise and fall of their chest as they took several shallow, raspy breaths.

Hidden among those breaths, another sound left their mouth. A short chirp, one so small and quick it passed over most everyone's detection.

A chuckle.

"So...that's it then..." Maybe the chuckle wasn't caught, and maybe not also the smile appearing on their own face, but surely the tone of their soft voice was unmissable. "I knew it. I'm not...enough..."

They might have added another word before the last one they breathed, but it would have been spoken too quickly and quietly for it to be properly heard.

Nonetheless, their self-hating tone was enough to make several heads shake. "oh, kid, don't say that," Sans dissuaded, his smile turning compassionate yet a little sad. "don't...don't ever say that."

"Of _course_ you are enough, Frisk!" Toriel continued, the smile that came across her face patient and loving. "You have _always_ been enough!"

"YOU ARE STILL VERY UNWELL, FRISK!" Papyrus reminded, sounding just a little more upbeat than he'd been as of late. "IT IS YOUR SICKNESS THAT ENCUMBERS YOU! WHAT HAS MADE YOU UNABLE TO CONTINUE ON! WHICH IS WHY YOU MUST NOT PUSH YOURSELF ANY FURTHER UNTIL YOU ARE WELL AGAIN!!"

"You just barfed your guts out not three minutes ago!" reminded Undyne. "That isn't something you can just walk-off! You need time to recover; trust me, there's a BIG difference between testing your limits and breaking yourself from trying to push them too far!!"

"I-If...If you r- _really_ want to talk to Dr. Gaster that badly," chimed in Alphys, her smile nervous yet understanding. "I-I'll figure something out. It'll t-take some time, but I'll find another way t-to contact him. A-And you'll use that time to recuperate and recover! S-So there's no need to make your condition even worse by forcing yourself to go on!"

"You _are_ enough, Frisk," Toriel re-emphasized, stepping forward a bit with her arms held out in a welcoming gesture. "Now, please, abandon this fruitless endeavor, and come back to us. Come back to me, my child. You...You cannot continue on like this."

Frisk, their upper half still hunched over, lightly shook their bowed head.

"...You're right," they eventually whispered. "Not like this. I need...more."

Confusion all but drove out the patience and understanding among the group of monsters. "...'more'?"

"I...need more," Frisk repeated, and slowly straightened their posture. "Need to be...more determined. I need more...determination. I need...I need......"

They had been slowly looking around themself as they spoke. Something to their left caught their eye, and their head turned completely toward it and stayed there.

"Flowey."

"... _Flowey_?" several voices simultaneously parroted.

"Flowey." Using their hands, Frisk turned to their left and scooted closer to what their gaze was dead set on. "I need _you_."

He had remained in Frisk's arms when they first crossed the veil. He remained silent and steadfast in his pot as the 'ghosts' of Gaster's followers spun their tale, then carried out their martyrdom. He remained a silent observer as Gaster removed himself, offered them his hand, and they reached out to take it. Until the moment they were pulled away from the ghost of the doctor, he had not left Frisk's side.

When they were yanked back, Frisk had dropped his pot. He landed on the metallic floor with nary a grunt, but felt his pot crack beneath him. All the while after Gaster left his last message, the adults began discussing what their next step should be, and Frisk crossed the veil again, he remained a silent observer. Completely disregarded and overlooked.

Not that he minded, really. Even with Gaster's most recent actions making him Public Enemy #1, his head was still slated for the chopping block. In fact, he considered being left on the side of the veil none except Frisk could safely cross a good thing, if it meant those who wanted to see him turned into mulch couldn't reach him. He was safe.

He had been complacent in being ignored. But when Frisk looked to him, directly addressed him, turned their whole body to face him, Flowey knew the security being across the veil granted him was over.

Flowey blinked, dumbstruck, then pulled a sly smirk. "Hee Hee, of _course_ you do," he chuckled. "You're perfectly helpless without me!"

He paused a moment. "... _Why_ do you need me?"

"You know why," Frisk insisted, their voice soft and calm. "Every time I've been in there, it was only because you opened the way and brought us there."

"More like _dragged_ you there," Flowey heard Undyne growl under her breath, even with the veil distorting every sound coming from the other side of it.

"I've never been able to get there on my own." Either Frisk didn't hear what Undyne said, or they were just ignoring it. "So I doubt I'll be able to now. I think even Dr. Gaster knew this; why didn't he put you down or anything while he was still overshadowing me?"

Flowey cocked a brow. "Fair point." Then his smirk grew bigger and sneakier. "But you apparently have brain damage, 'cuz you're forgetting something very important. I had the determination of, not one or two, _six_ human souls combined with my own within me. So I can't get you in there, _idiot_ , unless you got six more in your pockets."

Flowey snickered darkly. "Either that, or you're willing to give me your own. Hee hee h-"

"Not exactly."

"What?"

Frisk stared him square in the eye. They did not flinch or glance away. Kneeling before him, they stated, in an even and unironically serious voice,

"I was thinking more along the lines of you giving me yours."

His expression remained frozen in place. As the words sank in, it morphed, excruciatingly slowly, into one unsmiling, wide-eyed, and gaunt.

"... _W h a t_ ?"

"what?!"

"My child!"

"Are you NUTS?!"

"You're a sentient mass of determination, right?" Frisk, deflecting every protest, remained unflinchingly steadfast. "Should be easy to transfer that into something other than that flower, shouldn't it?"

Frisk placed a hand on their chest. "Something, like, my soul."

Flowey, feeling unable to think or breathe, balked.

"Th-Th-There's m-more to it th-than that!!" Alphys, being almost as much of an expert on Flowey as Flowey himself was, squeaked. "A-And more than that still, there's n-no telling what that w-would do to the two of you!!"

"I think it's already been firmly established that I can handle some extra determination," Frisk plainly stated. "And an extra consciousness or two."

Flowey could only continue to gawk.

"Not THAT much!!" The horror of recollection shone in Alphys' eyes. "I-I said that you have more determination than any other living being I've s-seen, b-but Flowey's determination comes in at a close second! Your soul _won't_ be able to handle it!!"

"Get AWAY from that _thing_ , Frisk!" Despite the uselessness of it, Undyne summoned an array of spears and pointed it at the veil. "And keep your mitts off of _them_ you miserable weed!!"

"I thought you couldn't let me face this on my own," Frisk recalled. "Isn't this a better alternative?"

"Certainly _not_!" Toriel denied, anger showing beneath the horror on her face.

"This is more ludicrous a plan than going in there on your own!" Asgore concurred.

"THERE MUST BE ANOTHER WAY!" Papyrus - the great, illustrious, always prideful and confident Papyrus - sounded like he was losing faith. "SURELY YOU DO NOT NEED _THAT_ MUCH DETERMINATION!!"

"that comes with a little something _extra_ attached," Sans added, glaring daggers at Flowey.

Flowey, of course, didn't see it. He could not look away from the face of the person before him, could not think of anything other than their proposal, of what that'd entail, what could be gained from it.

Needless to say, he was coming up short.

"...Frisk..." His voice was small when he found it again. Small and tight and full of suspicion. " _Why_...?"

And if he didn't know any better, the look Frisk gave him silently asked 'Why not?'

"...It's not just because I'm unable to go in there as I am," they answered, their hand dropping from their chest and into their lap. "I think, having that much determination, it'd be like a...what's the word? Um..."

Their face screwed up in thought as they looked down, softly snapping their fingers as they searched for the word. "Uh...fail-safe? Yeah, a fail-safe. 'Cause, if Dr. Gaster _does_ try to do anything bad, we'd be able to-"

"What? _Kill_ him?"

Flowey was being only partially ironic in asking this. Predictably, he was met with a frown of stern disapproval. (If he'd been paying attention, he'd see several more across the veil.)

"Get _away_ from him," Frisk clarified, firmly. "Or stop him. Or something. We'll play by ear. At the very least, we'd have some kind of advantage over him with our power."

That made Flowey, subtly, perk up. "Power..?"

Frisk definitely noticed the change. They scooted a little closer to him and leaned forward, a look in their eyes one might find in a salesperson.

"Have you never thought about it before?" Their tone was hushed; it was clear these words were meant for him and him alone. "Your determination combined with mine? _Twice_ the determination needed to reset time? We could do _anything_. There'd be nothing we couldn't accomplish. We'd be _unstoppable_."

They backed off a little bit, but that look in their eyes remained as potent as ever. "It'd give you something to do, at least."

Flowey was struck speechless, and a little impressed, honestly. They knew which buttons to press, what aspects would appeal most to him; they knew _exactly_ what to say to coerce him into going along with their plans.

...Which would have been what would've happened, if not for the fact that he wasn't the type of person who was _that_ easily manipulated. Unlike _some_ saps he knew.

......... _However_.........

It wasn't like he _hadn't_ considered it before. Heck, his first meeting with Frisk happened because he intended to take their soul from the get go! But what they were now proposing was certainly a different take on it; giving them _his_ determination? He hadn't thought of going that route.

What would that do to him? He'd be alright, right? He was a sentient mass of determination, after all; his consciousness solely depended on that determination to stay intact. If that determination got transferred into something else, something living and with even more determination than he...would he...?

He found himself staring at Frisk's chest, where within it their soul resided. His expression was smooth and blank, but the longer he stared, the more he felt it quirk into one more contemplating, studious, thoughtful.

...Intrigued. Curious.

_Tempted._

Give him something to do, huh?

A grim chuckle bounced off his curled-up lips. "Now _there's_ an idea..."

Toriel's claim of it being, "The single most reckless, misguided, irresponsible, unequivocally _dangerous_ idea I have ever heard in my life!!" sounded far away, as did every other protest and objection that accompanied it. Flowey was becoming too enraptured by the possibilities being laid out before him to pay those inhibitions any mind.

If only for a moment, however, he resisted the siren's call. Frowning, he shook his head and looked back up at Frisk's face. "Sounds like a mighty big waste of power _just_ to go talk to Gaster, though."

Frisk shrugged; it was both sheepish and shameless. "I know it does. Truth is, I didn't want it to turn out like this. But...it's not like I have much of a choice."

All the while they were talking, there was a small smile on Frisk's face. Now, it was a little bigger, and was accompanied by the most distant, empty look he'd ever seen in their eyes.

"We all know I'm so useless I can't do anything on my own."

Flowey felt his face fall. It was their voice, their mouth, but those were _definitely_ not their words.

He wasn't the only one to think so. "THAT IS _NOT_ TRUE," he heard Papyrus object, sounding on the verge of tears. "THAT IS NOT TRUE IN THE SLIGHTEST!!"

"You're _not_ useless, Frisk," he heard Asgore say next, and knew from the tone of his voice he was already shedding tears. "No one is."

"Y-You've done so much, Frisk." Alphys was heard next, and she was sniffling. "And all on y-your own. Th-There's so much you've done I c-can't even count them all! Like the barrier! You d-destroyed it and set us all-"

"No I didn't."

Flowey stiffened, and could tell the others across the veil did, too. "Wh...Wh-What?"

The look on Frisk's face had become apologetic. "I'm sorry," they said, and it was unclear just who they were saying it to. "But I can't keep taking credit for something I didn't do anymore."

"...If...If _you_ didn't bring down the barrier-" Undyne's voice was practically dripping with suspicion. "-then who the hell did??"

Flowey's eyes grew wide. They...they wouldn't..!

But they were. "The one who you should thank for destroying the barrier, and setting the monsters free...isn't me."

They extended their arm, gesturing with their hand to the potted plant in front of them. "It's him."

Flowey could practically hear every jaw that then dropped.

" _HIM_?!?!" Undyne bellowed.

" _Flowey_??" Alphys squawked.

"B-But- why- how-?" Asgore stammered.

"why the hell would _he_ do that??" Sans demanded. "and _how_??"

Flowey shot Frisk a deep glare of warning. If they knew what was good for them, they wouldn't answer that. (But considering all the questionable decisions they've been making as of late, Flowey was no longer sure how much they cared about their own well-being anymore.)

"...I promised to keep that part a secret."

That was all Frisk had to say, and it was accompanied by the small gesture of locking their lips and throwing away the key. Needless to say, that pacified Flowey. Even more needless was it to say that it pacified no one else. If anything, it made their protests and objections even stronger and more desperate.

But Frisk had gone back to ignoring their dissension. In fact, they seemed to be outright ignoring the others completely. Their gaze remained relentlessly glued on the flower with whom they were striking up their bargain. More like a gamble, with the overabundance of risks embedded in the fine print.

And Flowey, frowning, felt the need to point those out. "...It won't be pleasant."

"Never thought it would be."

"It might be permanent."

"It might not."

"I could _kill_ you."

At this, Frisk's fortitude noticeably wavered.

"Frisk..." Flowey shook his head, a genuinely curious expression creeping onto his face. "Nothing like this has ever been done before. The only thing that comes even close is what happened with the Amalgamates, and we all know how _that_ turned out. The same thing might happen to us. Your threshold for determination might not be high enough. It could kill me. It could kill _you_. And if we _do_ survive, you'd be entrusting me - _ME_ \- with your very life..."

He could only shake his head again. "Are you really prepared to trust me _that_ much..?"

Though Frisk did spend a quiet moment deliberating, their answer came with much less delay than he expected it to.

"I've trusted you that much so far."

Flowey's face went blank.

Their smile turned calm and gentle. "You've had plenty-no, _every_ opportunity to betray my trust so far. But you haven't. Not once. Because...you and I both know that's not what you want."

Flowey bristled, slightly.

"I know how risky it sounds, but when has anything ever been without risks? If it feels too perilous for you, though...I understand. I don't want you to feel pressured into doing something you're not comfortable with. The choice is yours."

Their hand moved to their chest again. "But I can't do this without you."

Flowey was very still, and very quiet for a long time. The rest of the world seemed to fall away, shut out as he started weighing his options.

... _What_ options, though?

If he refused Frisk, then they would either return to the others, or risk entering the rift on their own again. And where would that leave him? At the mercy of those who were not so merciful as Frisk? The veil was only a temporary security measure; no doubt it wouldn't take Alphys very long to figure out how to manipulate it enough so that he could be reached. And he couldn't easily run away, either; he was unfamiliar with this section of the Core, and there were no patches of earth into which he could burrow and escape judgement.

He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. The lesser of two evils had to be chosen. Join them, and risk everything? Or refuse, and face judgement?

............

...Really, though.

Was this even a contest?

"Hee hee hee hee hee."

He smiled up at them, his expression dark and cunning.

"You really _are_ an idiot."

Frisk didn't even flinch.

" _Such_ an idiot, in fact..." His expression shifted, a greedy keenness rising in it as his gaze focused back on their chest. "That this just _might_ be crazy enough to actually work."

Frisk smiled back at him. "Let's hope s-"

"NGGGAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!"

Both flower and human were both startled out of their plot-hatching (more like scheming) by the furious war cry, and by the sound like crashing thunder that soon followed after. Flowey looked up in time to see the spears Undyne earlier summoned having pierced through the veil, only to stop in mid-air several yards away from where his pot sat before the shook themselves apart, and dissipated into nothingness.

"Like! _Hell_! You're doing that!!" Undyne, a frantic look amid the rage in her expression, summoned spear after spear and launched them straight in Flowey's direction. "You're _not_ going in there!! You're _not_ giving him free reign over you!! YOU'RE! NOT! DOING THIS!!!!"

No matter how forcefully she launched them, no matter how far back she launched them from, no matter what method she used, no matter how big and powerful she made her attacks, she was met with the same result every time. The border may have been weak enough for her to get her attacks through, but the effects of the rift rendered her efforts completely ineffectual. The rift's defense against magic was immaculate, impregnable.

But Undyne kept going. She didn't slow down or give up. Not until her relatively high stamina was so depleted she could barely stay standing anymore, much less craft a spear any bigger than a railroad spike.

She was left sweating and huffing heavily, needing Alphys' support just to stay on her feet. Not to mention looking like she just received the biggest slap in the face; all her power amounted to nothing in the end. The veil remained intact. The rift remained stable. Flowey remained unscathed. And Frisk...

Though she looked absolutely unwilling to accept it, the truth was finally starting to sink in. There was nothing she could do. There was nothing _anyone_ could do. They could not reach them. They could not dissuade them. They could not stop them. No, all they could do was stand, watch...and make one final plead.

"Frisk... _please_..." Not even Flowey had ever heard Toriel sound so broken-hearted before. " _Don't do this_..."

Everyone became very quiet after that. Especially Frisk, who planted both hands on their knees and kept their head turned away from the veil, and those just beyond it. That made Flowey the only one who saw their smile finally fade, sorrowful guilt rising to take its place.

"...I never wanted you to see...what I've been through." Their voice, when the silence was finally broken, was small and tight, and reflected the regret on their face. "Much less find out...like that. I have no idea how I'll react to this. I know...I know you care too much to leave us alone together, so... If I _do_ react badly..."

He saw pain flash across their face. "Just look away."

And never before had Flowey seen any of those on the other side of the veil become engulfed with such utter devastation.

Frisk did not see it; it was obvious that they were avoiding doing so, lest the sight made their resolve waver. They took a deep breath, which subtly shuddered, squared their shoulders, and looked straight at Flowey. From the look they gave him, it told him that they were ready.

Flowey held their unwavering gaze a moment longer, then looked down and frowned. This was it then, huh? No turning back, no more second guessing, no point in any further delays.

...Might as well get it over with then.

"I'll try to be quick about it," he said, lowly, still conscious of the perils surrounding this 'procedure'.

"Try to be careful about it," Frisk said, lowly, back.

"Heh, right." Despite himself, a smile crept onto his features. "As if the two aren't mutually exclusive."

And then he submerged into the soil in his pot, giving himself some privacy to make his preparations.

\----

Sans was reeling.

This couldn't be happening. It couldn't turn out like this. He had just _saved_ them from being dragged into the obvious trap Gaster was trying to lure them into. And they wanted to walk straight into the rift? Allow that bastard to carry out whatever horrible things he had planned for them on the other side?? No form of words could encompass how very against this oozing-with-danger plan he was.

And how against it he was only increased exponentially to discover they didn't intend on going in there _alone_.

He had dragged them into this darkness before. He had lorded over them a power without equal. He had used that power to kill them, _torture_ them, **_break_** them, in _every_ sense of the word. Over and over again, until they were too crippled by pain and despair to do anything but, vainly, cry out for help. All so he could claim their soul for his own, and unleash his wrath upon every living being in creation

Back then, they would not (or possibly could not) let Flowey get what he wanted. But now...?

Now they were just _giving_ it to him?? As freely and apathetically as one might lend a neighbor a cup of sugar???

Tori had phrased it perfectly: This had to be the single most reckless, misguided, irresponsible, unequivocally _dangerous_ idea he'd ever heard in his life.

He would have gone after them. Thrown himself back across the veil and stopped them from forming this coalition before it was too late. But he was still weakened from his last venture across the line; standing on his own was already using up the sum of what strength he had left. Any more contact with the veil would surely kill him before he even got close.

He wanted to stop them. He wanted to come to their succor. He wanted to find the words that would convince them to give up. What he wanted - what _everyone_ wanted - was within sight, yet absolutely unobtainable. The veil would not allow any of them to cross it, only to _watch_ as their plan commenced without their interference.

Just like the barrier.

Another barrier barred them from reaching their desires, inhibited them from interfering, _trapped_ them.

So all they could do was watch as the emotionless creature that _reveled_ in every moment he countlessly _slaughtered_ the child before him finished his preparations, and rose from the depths of the earth before them.

...Except, what emerged from the potted soil didn't look like Flowey at all. It had some flora-like qualities, sure, but otherwise, it was like it had come from another planet or plain of reality it was so unfamiliar and alien. Even by Flowey's standards, and he was a being proven to possess the anatomical prowess to shape-shift into anything he could imagine.

If a comparison had to be drawn, it looked like a bundle of vines. Thick, 'meaty' tendrils tightly interwoven and braided together that twitched and wriggled out of the soil like worms. It rose higher and higher, until its bulbous tip was level with Frisk's collarbone, then drooped forward.

Its tip split in half once, twice, thrice, creating six smaller tips that unfolded and fanned out like petals (or the hood of a king cobra). In contrast to what was his norm, these 'petals' were thin, pointed, sharp. Like stingers on a bee. Or tiny daggers. Or thorns. Or fangs.

Or hypodermic needles.

There was a final, seventh 'thorn' in the very center, where his 'face' would be. This one was bigger and more imposing than the 'petals' surrounding it.

It, like its smaller counterparts, was pointed straight at Frisk's chest, out of which their soul was then called forth.

Sans' gaze honed in on that little red heart Frisk cradled in their hands. He had never really thought of it before; how utterly unnatural and jarring it was that they could manifest their very soul outside their body so _easily_. It was their **soul** for crying out loud! Their very self, everything that made them what they were; without it, their body would just be an empty, lifeless husk!

To think, he'd been so desensitized from seeing it appear whenever they engaged in battle, from seeing it withstand hit after hit from all manner of attacks, from grabbing hold of it and yanking it out himself, that he'd forgotten just how vital a soul was to any living being. How vital it was to _them_. It was their most important, irreplaceable essence; more fragile and precious than a newborn babe.

And they were offering it up - like a _sacrifice_ \- to the soulless abomination who had once, among other heinous things, literally _ripped_ their still-beating heart out of their chest, making them watch it frantically beat for the last time before _crushing_ it like a rotten apple.

Sans felt dizzy, like he was going to be sick. He didn't want to see this, but he could not look away. He was just too paralyzed by the shock of it all. And so he witnessed as the 'thorns' of the vine bundle turned red. That deep, rich color filled into each of them slowly, fully, until it looked like it was practically _oozing_ out of them.

Frisk held their soul forward. The tendrils flexed back. The 'cobra' poised to strike.

And then.

Just like that.

Each and every little red 'fang' sunk into the little red heart in Frisk's palms.

Sans felt even sicker, cringing as though it was _his_ soul was the one the snake had clamped its fangs into. Frisk, on the contrary, hadn't even twitched. Not even as the tendrils constricted around their soul, pushing the thorns even deeper into it, and the 'cobra' began injecting its venom.

_Alphys, assaulted by flashbacks of her past experiments, was the first to look away, clamping her hands down on the sides of her head (where ears would be) and burying her grimacing face against her wife's middle._

Either it happened without noise, or the veil completely smothered the sound as raw, untapped determination (with an insidious consciousness attached) was injected straight into their soul. Sans could see it pulse through the tendrils - which bulged the slightest bit with each pulse - with ripples of crimson light along thin, vein-like patterns in the tendrils' skin.

The emerging fear that the 'transfer' might be going in the opposite direction was driven out as quickly as it arose; the glow of Frisk's soul was steadily growing brighter, whereas the tendrils were...by the look of it, _shrinking_. Shriveling up like raisins as more and more of the determination that had kept its host alive for as long as it had filled into its new, willing host's soul.

The transfer was not as prolonged as Sans expected it to be; looks like Flowey was holding up his end of the bargain on that front, at least. Frisk's soul, its ruby light grown bright enough to be its own star, was positively _engorged_ with determination, so much so it looked fit to burst at any moment. The IV tubes that had fed this excess determination into them, on the other hand...Each of them had become so tiny and brittle that they instantly snapped like twigs when Frisk applied the most delicate of pressures to remove them.

Splinters of woody matter littered the ground between their knees. The last needle extracted, Frisk cupped their hands around the brightly glowing heart...and seemed to struggle to return it to where it belonged. It was as though they were trying to force the south poles of two very powerful magnets together; both body and soul were rejecting each other.

There was a reason, he thought, that it was resisting so much, kid. Because this was wrong. This was so, so _wrong_.

But Frisk wasn't letting up. Their arms shaking from the effort, they crossed them behind the heart, keeping it caged and steady as they leaned into it (if the soul wouldn't come to them, then they would come to it). Resistance was still met, but they would still not give it up.

Their efforts, finally, yielded results. Their upper half folding over, the dense, bright light their soul shed gradually grew fainter until it was completely snuffed, concealed by the cage of flesh that was their body.

Everything became still and quiet.

...Was that it?

Was that all that would happen?

A fraction of the tension in Sans' bones lessened. Huh. Looked like the worse was over. Guess he had gotten worked up for nothi-

Frisk lurched forward, their face slamming into the floor with a loud, solid _THUD_.

-...no. Of course not.

The worst was just getting started.

It began with a shiver, which evolved into tremors, until their whole frame was vibrating as though they were a bomb about to detonate. Apropos, really, because the next thing that happened was their spine arching upward, then lowering, then arching, then lowering again, as if something inside them was trying to explode out of their back.

Each movement was accompanied by the distinct, muffled _squelch_ of tearing flesh.

_Undyne, disturbed enough as it was, gritted her teeth and closed her eye, holding tightly to her wife, for Alphys' sake as well as her own._

The spasms continued, making their shoulders-no, their whole body lurch side to side, their face dragging across the floor with each escape attempt the 'something' inside them made. Their arms, crossed beneath them, then lashed out, quicker than whips, one of them colliding hard enough against the pot beside them to send it flying, which then smashed into pieces against the floor at the edge of the veil.

Had Sans searched through the dirt and debris at his feet, he would have found the remnants of what _used_ to be a flower, but had become so shriveled and brittle and lifeless it wasn't fit enough to even be used as a toothpick. Had he the fortitude to look a little further up and back, he would have noticed that the undulating wall of blackness filling the machine's jaw-like opening seemed to be shrinking back, as though aware and afraid of what was happening before it.

But Sans did not see any of this. Harrowing a sight as it was, his shrunken pupils remained glued on Frisk as their spasms got so bad, they were thrown up and back onto their feet.

Except, they were not ‘on’ their feet at all. Their curled up toes were at least an inch off the ground, some invisible force suspending their body and holding it steadfast. Their posture was rigid, their fingers curling like talons, and they remained like that for a moment before the spasms began anew.

Their movements were jerky, joints popping and bending swiftly into odd, sometimes unnatural, angles that did not look comfortable in the slightest. Each stiff, rapid twitch was accompanied by snaps and cracks that were much more pronounced than they needed to be. Sans knew, all too well, the sounds bones made when they broke, even when it was muffled by layers of flesh.

With how much of those sounds he was currently hearing, he knew several were being _shattered_.

In between the snaps and cracks, another sound was heard. A softer, far more constricted noise just barely perceived through the cruelfully prominent cracks. Strangled gasps, as he soon realized, ringing out as though they were trying to stop themself from crying out, or that they were _suffocating_.

The latter seemed more accurate, because when the jerking (mercifully) ceased, something else began to happen that was just as terrible a sight to witness. Through every patch of uncovered skin, discoloration began to spread out. Thick, dark lines (far too large to be blood vessels) that coursed beneath their skin like vipers, the sound of tearing flesh growing stronger as the 'vipers' spread down their legs, to their fingertips, around their neck.

The strangled gasps sounded more like gagging now.

_Papyrus, ashamed of himself for watching until this point and absolutely mortified by what he'd already seen, tightly shut his sockets and covered his face with his hands, curling in on himself and not caring that he didn't look very 'great' at all anymore._

Light began to shine through their shirt, their shorts, their very skin. The dense red glow of determination poured out of them, patterned like intricate tattoos along the paths the 'vipers' carved under their skin. It grew brighter and denser; it was quite painful to look at (in more ways than one).

A pulse of pure energy that Sans could feel in his marrow made the light flash brighter, the very air thrum. Then the invisible force keeping Frisk airborne threw them back into one of the generators surrounding them.

_CRUNCH!_ The already damaged pillar crumpled from the force of impact, briefly causing the veil it helped maintain become visible; it made everything beyond it appear as though looking through frosted glass. Frisk was then thrown face down to the ground where, by all appearances, the invisible force began literally wiping the floor with them. The light shining out of them made everything difficult to see, but it was easy to judge by the renewed noises that their fits were growing more violent and uncontrollable by the-

**_BANG!_ **

Sans felt the ground beneath him shift in time with the sharp sound, like a heavy footfall. It was enough for him to briefly loose balance, but he remained upright and locked on the source of the burning red light, which was, suddenly, growing dimmer. Soon he could actually _see_ from out of whom the light shone.

...Not like that made anything better.

Humans were physically stronger than monsters; that was an indisputable fact. Even those without strength could, if their intent was strong enough, dust a monster in just one blow. Being only a child (and a sickness-riddled one at that), Frisk wasn't exactly the model picture of physical prowess.

For them to have actually slammed their palm into the floor with enough force to make the solid steel _cave-in_ around their hand was just as alarming a sight as everything else that happened until this point.

Their hand acted as an anchor, their violent fits subsiding and the light growing fainter. The 'vipers' remained a dark red, but the light reduced to a faint glow. They could be seen subtly writhing and twitching beneath their skin, as if considering rampaging through them once again. Frisk themself was shivering, their other hand planting itself onto the ground with another **_BANG_** , leaving an imprint of their palm in the flooring as an attempt to create another anchor so they could, excruciatingly slowly, try to peel themself off the ground.

They were able to swivel their legs around to get on their knees before another pulse of energy and light made them lose their concentration, and slump back to the floor. Their gasps, no longer sounding as though escaping through a constricted wind pipe, were shallow and strained with exertion, their fingernails scraping against steel as their hands began to clench.

...Were they getting _bigger_?

Either the vein-like patterns, thin as hairline fractures, on the back of their hands were sinking deeper into them, or their hands were expanding and absorbing them into their flesh. As another sound joined the morbid symphony - the tear of fabric - Sans came to the startling revelation that it wasn't just their hands that were doubling in size.

The body mass Frisk had lost over the past day (had it really only been one?) was rapidly returning; already they were filling in the clothes that had hung loosely from their shrunken frame less than half an hour ago. But it didn't stop there. They were getting bigger and bigger, seams in their shirt and the elastic in the waist of their shorts were groaning and ripping under the strain their unnatural growth spurt put them under.

A high-pitch scrape, like nails on a chalkboard, called attention back to their hands. They were now at least double their original size, but more than that, comparing the scrape to nails on a chalkboard proved to be more accurate a description than originally thought.

Their nails had doubled in length and size, too. They were clawing through - not against, _through_ \- the metal flooring with enough force and pressure to  _rip_ up little curly cues of metal shavings, leaving marks in the floor behind them.

_Claw_ marks.

Their back arched up with a chorus of pops and snaps. Those sounded different now; bone was not breaking, but rather it sounded like it was shifting and rearranging. As it arched further, it lifted their legs and knees off the ground, their lower half supported now by their toes and the balls of their feet. More and more, their posture looked as though it belonged less to someone bipedal, but more quadrupedal.

And then there was their breathing. Behind the wall of hair much longer and thicker than Sans remembered it being, their gasps for air had become less like gasps at all. Their breaths had become longer, deeper, heavier, something laced in it that made it reverberate; it no longer sounded much like breathing at all.

It sounded like _growling_.

_The last thought that went through Asgore's mind was of him wondering if, had he gone through with his plan to absorb seven human souls, his transformation would have been just as violent before he shut his eyes, and turned his grimacing face away._

Sans' mind was going blank. He wanted to scream. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to run. He wanted everything to _stop_. But he acted on none of these instincts, fulfilled none of these urges. Though it only caused him pain, he just kept watching the ghastly transformation continue.

Though he was more than positive the pain that came from _watching_ was nothing compared to the pain of _experiencing_.

Their body grew larger. Their growls became deeper. Sans was so engrossed and grossed out by the sight that he only became aware of the white, furry hand out of his peripheral vision reaching forward when Frisk reacted to the soft scrape of a foot inching forward.

Their body tensed. Their breathing hitched. Their claws stopped tearing through the floor. Something snapped shut. A low, guttural snarl resounded. In a flash, their head whipped around.

Somewhat distended jaws full of long, sharp, pointed fangs dripping bloody saliva gnashed at him. An iris so intensely red it burned, surrounded by a pitch black sclera, glared at him. A black, slitted pupil slicing through that burning crimson locked onto his shrunken, round white one, without even the tiniest sliver of warmth or recognition.

Two thoughts ran through Sans' head, faster than bullet trains. The first: his friend was gone. Devoured completely and mercilessly by the feral beast now glaring him down, sizing him up, ready to pounce at any moment and rip him to shreds.

The thought that immediately followed was just as grim, but in a much different sense. It only crossed his mind because, just as he fully took in the bestial changes that had overtaken Frisk...they started to wane.

Their face smoothed out. Their no longer taut lips fell over their (still sharp and pointed) teeth. The blackness in their eye and the intensity of the redness receded, their pupil reverting to its regular shape before shrinking into a pinprick.

The second thought: no longer did they give the appearance of a mindless animal preparing to strike.

They now wore the look of someone who had only now come to realize how utterly grave a mistake they had made.

_H e l p   m e_

But there was nothing he could do.

Another pulse broke Frisk out of their moment of clarity, their eye reverting back to deep black and burning red. The pulse made them cringe, and their fits began anew.

Except...they seemed less volatile now. Like Frisk was far more aware and trying to control the changes before they became even more unrecognizable.

By the look of it, they seemed to be succeeding. The snaps and cracks and tears were happening less frequently, and they no longer appeared to be gaining more body mass. The changes stopped, the transformation suppressed.

Hindering the changes, however, came at a cost. As was made apparent by their frame becoming wracked with tremors, one of their arms tightly hugging around their middle, and their breathing (still retaining an animalistic trill) devolving into very un-subtle whimpering.

_Toriel, beyond heartbroken at seeing her child in such pain and distress and knowing she could not rush to their aid, squeezed tears out of her eyes as she shut them tightly, her hands covering her mouth and her shoulders heaving with silent sobs._

As though trying to move with cinder blocks chained to them, they lifted their head off the ground, face turned away, and extended their other arm out in front of them. (With it raised up Sans could see just how big and thick it had become, along with how long and pointed their tips looked.) In another show of the sudden strength they had gained, they threw their hand down hard enough to leave a dent in the floor the shape of their palm.

Another anchor created, they pulled themself towards it, dragging their tremulous body across the blackened metal plating. Once a certain point was reached, they lifted their arm back up, reached out, then created another anchor to pull themself toward.

Closer to the machine.

Sans blinked; it felt as though it had been the first time he'd done so in hours. What were they thinking? Trying to enter the rift while they were in this clearly unstable state? It was like they were _asking_ for their concentration, already worn thin from suppressing their changes, to be put under more unnecessary strain!

...Or...was it...

Were they trying to sequester themself within the rift so they could _finish_ the transformation?

Because he was still watching?

Sans started at that. He'd been watching. He had been watching from the start. They had asked - pleaded - for him and the others not to look, but he never once looked away. They knew that; they _saw_ him staring straight at them. And because he had not upheld their desire, because he was _still_ staring...

Everything happening to them was getting worse and worse.

Another pulse of energy and light stirred him from his thoughts. The deep thrum reverberated against his bones, made them vibrate a little. Immediately following it the screeching scrape of tearing metal made him flinch. He just barely caught the sound of something much softer and less sturdy also being torn, and he refocused on the sight before him before another noise rose above the rest.

A guttural yowl rang out as gouges were left in the floor, scraps of fabric drifted onto it. The pulse had made their concentration slip, and in that disarming moment, their hands had near doubled in size and strength again; their nails hat torn through metal and fabric and _flesh_ as easily and without resistance as running fingers through untangled hair. The self-inflicted wound, deep claw marks that ran across the side of their chest, had been what made them let out that beastly bellow.

Barely perceivable within it, a child's cry of pain.

Frisk curled up on themself, one hand grasping at the gouges in their side (which _weren't_ oozing blood for some reason), the other grasping at their face. Their shivers became more violent, their whimpering more anguished and uninhibited.

Sans felt it before he heard it, before he saw it. An immense pressure; it made the very air feel thicker than molasses and just as asphyxiating to breathe in. A building energy was being suppressed, confined to a form far too minuscule to be safely contained to. It was so strong it affected more than the cage trying to keep it imprisoned.

Then he heard the thrum, and saw the first of the cracks.

The sound was like a hi-def stereo with the bass turned all the way to its lowest; the floor beneath his slippers shook from the reverb. The cracks, thin as hairline fractures, broke out across their skin as though it was made of fine china, red light shining through them.

The thrum crescendo-ed, the cracks lengthened, the light And it just kept growing, the crescendo making his footing more unstable as the pressure built.

What also grew as the pressure built were the cracks spreading across Frisk's body. Thin as hairline fractures, they broke through their skin as though it was made of fine china. Light leaked through the cracks; the bright red glow of the overabundance of determination their body was making these unnatural, jarring changes to accommodate for.

Trying to suppress the transformation, increasing the pressure to keep it under control, served only to make the ground-shaking thrum stronger, the cracks lengthen, the light to intensify. But Frisk, stubbornly, kept resisting, curling in on themself more and more in pure desperation.

...Stop.

Just... _stop_.

Stop doing this to yourself, Sans kept thinking.

Stop fighting it.

That's just making it worse.

Kid...please...

Just...

Just let it happen.

_Just let it happen._

_I t ' l l   a l l   b e   o v e r   s o o n ._

And Sans, an entirely new wave of horror washing over him to realize who he just sounded like, finally tore his gaze away and shut his eyes, the last glimpse he caught of Frisk through the blinding surge of light being of them rearing back, face toward the heavens, and releasing a deafening roar that reverberated as loudly and deeply as the climaxing thrum.

And, lost within that noise, two voices screaming in harmonized agony.

\----

 

 

**Ba-bum**

 

 

**ba-bum**

 

 

**ba-bum**

 

 

**ba-bum**

 

Sans' ears were ringing.

Technically he didn't have any ears, but that didn't change the fact that he couldn't hear anything. Other than that ringing white noise that usually followed a deafening one.

 

**ba-bum**

 

He doubted he could see very well either, if he opened his eyes, that is. The light had been so bright that, even with his eyelids shut and his head turned away, it had pierced through the malleable bone that acted as his eyelids and filled his sockets. Made him wonder if it had truly made him go blind.

 

**ba-bum**

 

Two of the five senses were otherwise compromised. A sixth one, however, was picking up the slack, and then some.

He felt a tightness in his chest, like something was coiled around his sternum and squeezing tightly. The air still felt thick and heavy, like he was swimming in syrup. And there was this...pressure. A feeling of dread and danger, like the pull of gravity had turned hostile, like he was being watched.

Like there was something big and hungry breathing down his neck.

And then there was-

 

**ba-bum**

 

-that.

It made him tense. He knew that sensation. He knew what made that sound. Any other time, it was a good thing that he could be able to hear it. But now...now it just felt _wrong._

 

**ba-bum**

 

He felt himself quivering in his slippers. He opened his sockets, slowly, so he could re-orient himself with the world around him. The ringing in his non-existent ears was fading, as well as the blinding effect that last burst of light. He found himself looking down, at the network of pipes constructing the floor beneath him. He could hear the others around them, hear their breathing, and noted how horrified those breaths sounded. He lifted his head - it felt like he was trying to move with a tight brace around his neck - turned his sights forward and-

 

**ba-bum**

 

-immediately became frozen where he stood.

Their transformation complete, they were now more the height and size of a young adult than the prepubescent child they were. Scraps of fabric from their sleeves and shorts - torn from under the strain of their increased mass - littered the ground around them. They stood tall and straight, though it couldn't be said they were 'standing', given the fact their feet were at least half a foot off the ground.

Their feet had almost tripled in size. So had their hands. Neither of those pairs looked at all similar to what they were supposed to look like, and each phalange was tipped with thick, sharp claws. Red, pointed growths protruded out of their big, thick arms and legs, like thorns on a rose.

The wounds on their side, the gashes their claws had ripped through shirt and skin, had cauterized instantly. Brown hair long and thick as a lion's mane fell past their broadened shoulders. Some of those locks had a reddish hue, particularly near the temples where two more growths had erupted from their-

Horns.

Those were _horns_.

White as bone, the horns were each at least a foot long, though it was hard to tell with how they curved toward their head. Trickles of blood ran down their pointed tips, further soiling their mane of long brown hair.

And then there were the vessels.

From toe to tip, spread out across every inch of skin, canals like lava flows were red as red can be. With each ' **ba-bum** ', light rippled through these vessels, pumping determination throughout their body as a heart would pump blood.

It was as though they were giving off an immense amount of heat. The space around them wavered, became unclear and unfocused, blurred until it became unrecognizable. Like reality itself was distorting _just_ to allow them to have a presence in this plane of existence.

Speaking of presence, it felt like theirs were _everywhere_. Like there were eyes surrounding them, surrounding him and the others, filling every nook and cranny and empty space. Watching. Searching. Observing _everything_. The weight of those unseen, improbable gazes was what had created that crushing pressure he felt in the very air. Made him feel that sense of dread and danger and like he was being watched.

He remembered how it'd been said, many a time before, how great and powerful and all-mighty the power to reset time was.

Only now did it truly feel like he was standing in the presence of a _god_.

 

**ba-bum**

 

The god slightly tilted their head down and to the right, then down and to the left. There was a curious, sort of 'whrr'-ing sound, almost like electricity's hum, that accompanied their every movement. And when they flexed their claw-tipped fingers, as though testing to see if they worked, it was as though they were clenching the fabric of reality itself in their fists, the 'whrr' much more pronounced than before. For a moment it looked like their shoulders were shaking with suppressed laughter.

 

**ba-bum**

 

The god's hands released their grip on reality. They raised their head, and squared their shoulders. With their feet still inches off the ground, and without flexing a single muscle, they moved forward, past the last pair of generators and closer yet to the rift they'd done this to themself to-

" _frisk_!!"

All the god had done was come to a complete halt, a mere stride away from the opening of the rift.

But the eyes? The ones he felt were everywhere watching everything?

They all turned onto him.

Sans stiffened under the collective weight of the gazes from the thousands, millions, _billions_ of eyes that honed in on him. Eyes of those already gone, eyes of those yet to exist; every single eye within every realm of possibility was staring at him, watching him, judging him for each and every last one of his actions, from each and every timeline.

So this is what it was like, to feel his sins crawl up his back.

The pressure had increased ten-fold. He felt like he was going to crumble to dust right on the spot. But, somehow, he was able to stand his ground and soldier on. Looking past the crushing gazes around him, his own rested solely on the one he called out to, the newly-born god from who the eyes originated, the dear friend and sibling he hoped was still in there.

"...a l-long time ago," he stammered, struggling to keep his voice level and not crack again, "i made a promise. i made this promise to...to someone who's name i didn't know, who's face i'd never even seen. it was a promise to...protect, and watch over someone i had yet to meet. a promise to protect...you."

The eyes continued to bore into him.

"a-and...since then...i've done an incredibly piss-poor job of upholding that promise. you know that better than anyone else, don't'cha?"

The god didn't even flinch.

A different kind of weight burdened Sans, the kind that made his sternum feel tight. "i...i let you down, frisk. so many times...you needed me, and i let you down. we _all_ did, but i...i made a _promise_..."

The eyes stayed on him, singling him out from the others, from everything, from reality itself.

"i...i've never more wanted to keep that promise than right now. and i know, okay? i know that sounds just...so... _unbelievably_ shitty of me. that i should want most to watch over and protect you...when you've done... _this_ to yourself."

The god remained adamantly still and unmoving.

He looked down, fighting for breath for more reasons than one. "n-now...now, you're going where i can't follow. where i can't do _anything_ to keep that promise i made for you. s-so...since i'm so bad at keeping promises...howzabout you make one to me? i w-won't ask a lot...just..."

He looked back to the god, swallowing back the lump in his throat and fighting back tears.

"be careful. and make sure you come back."

It was hard to be aware of anything other than the pressure the eyes put him under, so he could only guess(hope) that the others shared this sentiment, this prayer for their safety. If they were saying anything in agreement, he couldn't hear them. His attention was focused wholly on the god he addressed that everything else was drowned out. Save for the crushing weight of the eyes, of course.

 

 

**ba-bum**

 

**ba-bum**

 

 

**ba-bum**

 

 

The gazes began to lift.

Startled, Sans blinked owlishly as the eyes turned away from him, returned to their task of observing everything, and not just him. It alleviated some of the pressure, made the air more tolerable to breathe. As for the god themself...they began to turn.

" **Don't worry, Sans.** "

Two voices spoke at the same time, one just barely speaking over the other, and beneath it all, a deep, reverberating undertone that made him shudder. The god turned clockwise to face him (they _always_ turned clockwise to face him), space and reality twisting around them as they made their revolution.

Through the mane, lit up by the pulses, he saw the corner of their mouth. It was tugged upwards into a smile. He knew that smile, and was lulled instantly into relief. Amid all the harrowing changes he witness their body wracked with, it was comforting to know that some part of them was unchanged, that one touch of the person he knew and loved was still in there.

Then they finished turning around.

Their smile was too big, too long to be natural for a human. But it perfectly accommodated the jaws that had somewhat distended into a muzzle, the nose that elongated into a snout. Peeking out from under the top lip were two points; fangs like the ones filling their mouth. On either side of their face were markings; two black, curved markings like matching tattoos that ended in points beneath their eyes. Their eyes...

One was just as he'd seen it earlier: black sclera, crimson iris, slitted pupil. The other, however, had a red sclera and green iris, but the pupil just as slitted as its twin. The duality was such a stark contrast that it threw him for a loop.

What made him feel like he was plummeting was their chest.

Before, their soul had been unwilling to return to their body, like the two were rejecting each other. Now, however, the two seemed to have worked out a compromise. Their soul had not fully returned to their body, but instead remained embedded in their chest, like a jewel in a cave wall. Honestly, though, it didn't look like a 'soul' at all. The general heart-shaped outline was still there, faintly, but it now more closely resembled a lake that had overflowed into smaller rivers and streams. Ironically, it also now more closely resembled a heart - the actual, blood-pumping organ - because the light that pulsed with every ' **ba-bum** ' started there, in that 'lake', before spreading throughout the rest of the river system.

Their eyes were no longer level with his collarbone. He had to tilt his chin up instead of down to meet them now. Their heterochromatic gaze rested on him, momentarily, before it looked to the group as a whole. They smiled.

" **We'll be sure to-** " The red-iris eye closed. " **-aVOID-** “ It opened back up. “ **-getting into trouble.** "

Half of their smile morphed into a fang-bearing snarl. The red and green eye rolled. A loud growl rumbled in their throat.

Or, perhaps, it was a groan.

" **Oh, lighten up.** "

Only one half of their face moved to form those words, the red and black eye crossing to look at the other half of their face. The split between the two halves probably would have been comedic, were it not such a jarringly unnatural occurrence.

The Frisk/Flowey amalgamate then started moving backwards, into the machine. The rift no longer seemed to be shrinking away from them, but moving forward to meet them.

They entered the machine's open jaws-

" **That one was funny.** "

-and the darkness swallowed them whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween ;3c


	23. Chapter 23

_"So you finally made it."_

 

> _writer's note:[listening recommendation](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_-0VZ8ObXOY)_

 

_You woke up surrounded by golden flowers, having long since become accustomed to their unique scent. You met the caretaker of the Ruins, and patiently listened and_ _obeyed her as she guided you through puzzles and pathways you've already learned by heart. You talked with a dummy, though they were not one much for conversation,_ _pleasing the caretaker. You waited in the long corridor where she created some unnecessary tension, even long after she stopped calling you, knowing through experience_ _that she would never return to retrieve you, no matter how long you waited. Only then did you go against her wishes, and continue in independence._

_"The end of your journey is at hand."_

_You playfully crinkled through every leaf pile, save for the ones you were asked not to step on. You took only one piece of Monster Candy, per the sign's_ _suggestion. You were patient with a rock. You shopped at a humble bake sale. You found the fourth frog. You cleaned up the Ruins a bit by picking up a faded ribbon and_ _toy knife. You complimented every Froggit. You consoled every Whismun (or tried to, at least). You flirted with every Moldsmal. You did not pick on Loox. You helped_ _Migosp get away from the wrong crowd. You were provided a healthy dinner from the Vegetoids. You cheered up Naptsablook. You accidentally called the caretaker 'Mom',_ _then tried to play it off by flirting with her. You never felt more embarrassed in your entire life._

_"In a few moments, you will meet with the king."_

_You made it to Home, without a scratch on you, and reunited with the caretaker. You were given your own room, a warm bed, fresh food. You listened to every snail_ _fact. You asked how to leave the Ruins, prompting its caretaker to make the decision to destroy its exit. You pursued her, against her wishes and warnings. You evaded_ _every volley of fire and flame when she told you to prove yourself to her. You refused to fight her, and in the end, despite the heartache, she let you go. You_ _backtracked to the place of your awakening, and found her there. You gave her one last hug, one she did not return, yet could not bring yourself to tell her that you'd_ _see her again. You left the Ruins, encountering no one else, the doors sealing shut behind you._

_"Together...you will determine the future of this world."_

_You walked down the snowy path, hopping over the long branch laying across it. You did not flinch or look back when that branch was broken, when you felt a_ _presence behind you, when you heard the crunch of someone else's footsteps follow you. You stopped at a poorly gated bridge, and waited for your stalker to approach_ _you properly, waited until after he finished his spiel before turning around, and taking his hand._

_"That's then."_

_You hid behind the conveniently-shaped lamp he pointed you toward. You agreed to help cheer his brother up. You continued through the snowbound forest, careful not_ _to slip on any ice patch. You uplifted a downtrodden Nice Cream vendor's spirits. You made use of a box some love, and some hate. You received a piece of a snowman,_ _vowing to take it with you to the ends of the earth. You never figured out what was behind the door in the mysterious place Glyde hangs out in. You laughed at every_ _one of Snowdrake's puns. You complimented each hatless Ice Cap. You unburdened Gyftrot of every knickknack, and gave them the gift of friendship. You petted every_ _sentry dog, opening up a new world to two and sending one to where no dog has gone before._

_"Now, you will be judged."_

_You made it to the cozy town of Snowdin. You looked through every book in the librarby. You tried, yet would always fail, to get any proper sleep in the Snowed_ _Inn. You tried, yet would always fail, to catch an annoying dog. You were honest with your feelings for a certain skeleton, and met all his standards. He made you feel_ _blue, both during battle and after your date, when he could not reciprocate your intense love for him (romantically, he meant). You received his phone number, and you_ _called up your newest friend every chance you got thereafter. You braved through blinding fog, and continued forward._

_"You will be judged for your every action."_

_You traversed through Waterfall. You hid within seaweed-like grass from the captain of the Royal Guard. You avoided every spear of justice she hurtled at you. You_ _recovered a dusty tutu, ballet slippers, and even a psychologically damaged benchful of quiche. You listened to every echo flower. You gazed at every star in the room_ _of wishes. You purchased more Nice Cream, re-lifting its vendor's spirits. You appreciated the spectacular pattern of the gems embedded in a wall. You brandished a_ _black eye like a medal of honor. You slowed down, just to listen to the quiet water, before pressing on._

_"You will be judged for every EXP you've earned."_

_You were soothed by the lullaby of a water-logged statue's hidden music box. You recreated its melody on a nearby piano. You were confounded and japed, again, by_ _the annoying dog when trying to claim your prize. You walked a rainy trail with a fellow child, shared your umbrella with them. You spent a long time at an overlook,_ _memorized every detail you could of the grand castle across the great distance. You were accosted by the captain again, and fell from a great height, once again_ _finding yourself waking up in a bed of golden flowers, an unknown memory still fresh in your mind._

_"What's EXP?"_

_You hummed with Shyren, and went on tour with her. You withstood the wrath of Mad Dummy. You hung out with Onionsan, helped them feel a little less lonely. You_ _chilled with Naptsablook, helped them feel a little less lonely, too. You unhugged Moldbygg. You were cleaned by Woshua's diligence. You enlightened Aaron to the realm_ _of the paranormal. You gave a humble Thundersnail racer the right amount of encouragement. You indulged a crazy old turtle's ramblings. You cherished a very helpful_ _little bird. You found a hidden village, helped fund their shopkeep's cool leg tuition, and experienced the unique sensation of detemmienation. You saved your newest_ _friend from a very nasty fall._

_"It's an acronym."_

_You fled from your battle with the captain like a weenie. You paused, as did she, when a friend rang you up, invited you to hang out with him at her place later._ _You re-hydrated the captain when the burning, dry air of Hotland sucked all the moisture out of her scales. You took up your friend's invitation and met him outside her_ _domicile, in which he conveniently left the two of you to your own devices. You enjoyed some tea as she spoke of her youth. You took a cooking lesson and set her house_ _ablaze. You hit her with as much force as you could, and didn't even bruise her. You caught a ride on the ferry, and returned to Hotland to continue your trek through_ _another medium._

_"It stands for 'execution points'."_

_You got your phone upgraded. You answered it every time it rang. You read every status update. You agreed with, encouraged, and thanked the Royal Scientist for_ _every ounce of her help. You aced a quiz show. You were a model assistant for a cooking show. You took your news reporting very seriously, both during the live report_ _and the death report. You performed admirably in an opera. You would have accepted a ghost's friend request, had it not been immediately deleted._

_"A way of quantifying the pain you have inflicted on others."_

_You hugged and encouraged every Vulkin. You approached Tsunderplane just close enough. You heated up every Pyrope. You opted not to participate in Muffet's spider_ _dance by enjoying some tasty bake sale goods with her. You coaxed a confession out of RG01 for his feelings for RG02. You remembered Heats Flamesman's name._

_"When you kill someone, your EXP increases."_

_You bought an excessive amount of hot dogs. You correctly delivered what each hotel patron requested. You set up a 3-way date with the local shopkeepers. You got_ _hopelessly lost in a ridiculously large bed. You were invited to dinner, and found yourself wondering if it's raining somewhere else._

_"When you have enough EXP, your LOVE increases."_

_You navigated through the Core. You were patient with the scientist whenever she led you astray. You mystified the Final Froggit. You prayed for safety before_ _Whimsalot. You stared at each of Madjick's orbs. You sang Knight Knight to sleep. You danced with a killer robot, promoting his brand and sending his ratings through_ _the roof, all while avoiding death by glamour._

_"LOVE, too, is an acronym."_

_You were told what must be done in order for you to leave. You rode the long elevator to New Home. You left both presents in the first bedroom untouched. You_ _listened to every word of the tale the procession of monsters lining the path to the throne room told you._

_Then you paused, just outside the Final Corridor, and turned back._

_"It stands for 'Level of Violence'."_

_You took the scenic route through the capital, the power plant, blistering heat, wet marshlands, and bitter cold. You returned to the bar where you had a casual_ _lunch of burgers and fries, and inquired something from its fiery owner._

_"A way of measuring someone's capacity to hurt."_

_You received a letter from the captain. You delivered it to the scientist. You were mistaken for the letter's author, and went on a date to the garbage dump. You_ _convinced your datemate to tell the person she really liked the truth. You roleplayed with her. You watched her get slam dunked into a trash can. You watched her and_ _your tall skeleton friend begin their confidence training. You assured the captain that anime is, indeed, real._

_Then you got a phone call you don't recall ever receiving before._

_"The more you kill, the easier it becomes to distance yourself."_

_You became trapped in the True Lab. You refused to join the Memoryheads' fun. You played with Endogeny. You mysified, picked on, and prayed before Reaper Bird. You  u_ _nhugged, flexed with, and hummed to Lemon Bread. You told some familiar jokes to Snowdrake's Mother. You watched every tape. You read every entry. You learned the  s_ _cientist's truth. You received another phone call, and heard a voice you have never heard before. You were jettisoned back to New Home, and prevented from going back._ _You noticed the missing save point. You wasted a considerable amount of time waiting to see if it would reappear, and when it didn't...you finally understood what it_ _meant._

_"The more you distance yourself, the less you will hurt."_

_You walked, calmly, back to the Final Corridor. You passed through light and shadow. You became still as a figure appeared before you. You heard the ringing of_ _distant bells._

_"The more easily you can bring yourself to hurt others."_

_You solved every puzzle. You read every book, plaque and sign. You played every game. You enjoyed every joke and prank. You walked down every road. You picked up_ _every discarded item. You spoke to every monster. You listened to everything they had to say, without once opting to 'skip over' their dialogue. You never tried to_ _hurt another person. You sold everything you had on you - save for the clothes on your back and the snowman's piece - and finally made enough._

_And now._

_And now..._

_"...but you. you never gained any LOVE._ _'course, that doesn't mean you're completely innocent or naive. just that you kept a certain tenderness in your heart._ _no matter the struggles or hardships you faced...you strived to do the right thing. you refused to hurt anyone. even when you ran away, you did it with a smile._ _you never gained LOVE, but you gained love._ _does that make sense? maybe no-"_

_Now, he becomes silent as you complete your noiseless approach by wrapping your arms around him._

_As far as you can recall, there's never been this little a distance between the two of you. He's never let you get this close before, nor have you ever felt the_ _express desire to be so near to him either. You wonder why that is._

_Despite the fact that he's a skeleton, you feel no discomfort as your arms tighten around him. Nothing's poking or jabbing into you; he's a lot more comfortable_ _than he looks._

_"...uh..."_

_You give him a small squeeze before releasing him from your surprise hug. You avoid looking up at him as you step back, then walk around him. Your footsteps become_ _the only sound filling the golden hall._

_You just barely catch, as you leave the Final Corridor and continue to meet the king in the mountain at The End, the rustle of paper as Sans digs out the receipt_ _of a great sum of gold paid that you had slipped into his jacket pocket, on the back of which you scrawled this note:_

  You've asked me before if what I have to do is really worth it.

  Hopefully this is enough of an answer for you.

  - a stupid doodoo butt

  A.K.A.

  the legendary fartmaster

\----

When Alphys and Undyne got married, you wanted to look your absolute best. 'Uncle' Mettaton helped you pick out the perfect outfit for the occasion; in fact he insisted on outfitting every member of the wedding party. And while you trusted your 'uncle's keen fashion sense, you really wished he got you something a little easier to move around and breathe in. The shoes pinched your toes, the dress squeezed around your middle too tightly; it was very uncomfortable to wear when you first got it. After some advice from 'Mom', you were able to ease into wearing the ensemble for hours at a time without feeling like you were going to break or rip something, just in time for the big day.

This.

Feels.

Absolutely.

**_Nothing._ **

Like that.

It feels like you're being pulled. This sensation isn't entirely new, however; you've always described determination as an 'aching tug' whenever it swells within you. But never before has that tug felt more powerful and dangerous.

It's like there are meat hooks embedded deep in your flesh, pulling at you from every conceivable direction. At the same time, it feels like there's a gravitational force at your very center pulling everything in towards it, like a black hole. The equilibrium between these two forces canceling each other out, you suppose, is the only reason you haven't literally collapsed in on yourself or been torn to bloody pieces by now.

You could not have entered the rift sooner. Being within this darkness, cut off from any sense of time or space or reality, has never been less scary or full of uncertainty. In fact it's quite liberating, like finally being able to shed a backpack filled with boulders. Though with the delicate stability between the two opposing forces pulling at you, even at your most relaxed you still cannot completely relax. But some leeway can be allowed in here, instead of back in the reality where it felt like even a single strand of hair would have disrupted the balance and instantly make you lose yourself.

Back in the reality where you were just...so... _aware_ of everything.

Aware of every minuscule detail of the time machine. Aware of every creak and groan and general noise made within a, you guess, 50-foot radius. Aware of every particle of dust in every dust mote in the air. Aware of every particle of the air itself. Aware of every breath, of every movement, of _everything_ of the people near you, the family you left behind. How many golden hairs there are in Asgore's beard, how many threads of fabric went into making the dress 'Mom' is wearing, how many scales cover your 'aunts' bodies, every last microscopic hole on the porous bones of your 'brothers'; the sensory overload was so overwhelming you felt you were going mad. Or at the very least going to throw up again.

Again: you could not have entered the rift any sooner. The vast emptiness all around you is mind-numbingly relieving; there's no light, no sound, no air, nothing around you for you to focus on, to become acutely, painfully aware of.

Nothing, that is, except for yourself.

As opposed to the other times you've entered this dark and empty place, you've remained fully aware of your sense of self. You're aware of every change your body has undergone. Aware of your claws, your horns, your razor sharp fangs; conscious of how every sinew flexes and moves in accordance with the rest of your newly transformed form. Aware of every last drop of determination coursing through you like water through the freshly carved canals stretching across every inch of you.

And, of course, of your 'soul-mate'.

Being this conscious of a second consciousness within you is...new, to say the least. You're aware of him, and know he's aware of you. He's not confined to one part of yourself, like your mind or your soul; you feel his presence everywhere within you. Sharing your body, he has the same amount of control over your actions as you do. He is your co-pilot. He is your equal.

He...is...being very quiet right now.

_Wow,_ you think. _Did you see their faces? We must look pretty terrible, huh?_

Your thoughts go silent.

_I'm sure we do, but hard to know without looking in a mirror, amiright?_

Your thoughts go silent.

_Honestly, that came as much more of a surprise to me than anything. I mean, it never looked like it was painful whenever you transformed or anything._

Your thoughts go silent.

_...I'm sorry, by the way. For panicking like that. I just...they were still watching-_

Dark, sardonic laughter suddenly slithers out of you as you feel half of your mouth curl up into a wide, fang-bearing smirk.

_Hee hee hee. So THIS is what you were planning._

...Welp.

That cat didn't stay bagged for long.

_Clever. Verrrrry clever._ You feel the muscles in your cheek strain from how wide your mouth stretches. _I'm almost proud; you've gotten so good at being sneaky and manipulative you're only years away from being as good as me, instead of the usual decades. Hee hee hee..._

_...You're not mad?_ You shift your right eye toward your left.

You feel the smirk lessen, a little. _Can't be._ You feel your left eye look toward the other. _Soulless abomination, remember?_

Your thoughts go quiet, then half your gaze turns down toward your chest.

_...Not anymore, really._

The other half flicks in that direction, too, then looks away as the smirk completely fades. The deafening silence of the rift encompasses you once more.

_...Was it like this?_ you ponder, hesitantly. _When you and Chara-?_

_No,_ words in your head answer. _Not...exactly._

_Then...what was it like? If you don't mind me asking._

Nothing but the pounding of your heart (your soul?) in your ears is all that answers you for a very...very long time.

_............It happened all at once._ Half your face smooths out, becomes placid. _It wasn't at all drawn out or prolonged. I just...took their soul within_ _me, there was a flash of light, then bam._

An image flashes across your mind; an ancient mural carved into a water-logged slab of stone. You never did get used to looking at that one, now that you think about it.

_And it wasn't NEARLY as painful, either._ Half your face pulls a grimace. _Or this uncomfortable. It felt...I dunno, natural? Like my body was ALLOWED to_ _change that way? Geez, this is harder to put into words than I thought it'd be._

_That's okay,_ you reassure him. _I think I get the general gist of it._

_And when I told you before that the control was split between us, it wasn't THIS literally! It was more like we were able to pass the controls between the two_ _of us or just overpower the-_

His stream of thought abruptly stops. Half of your face goes blank, then warps into a deep scowl.

_...Mind telling me WHY you're making me talk about this stuff?_

The demand is barbed, threatening, suspicious. You remained as unfazed by it as though it were a simple inquiry about the weather.

_I'm not 'making' you do anything,_ you politely inform him. _I only asked a question, and you decided to answer it. Just trying to make small talk until we_ _find the doctor, that's all._

He makes no reply.

_And if you're testy about the subject matter, I understand. You and I are no strangers to body sharing, but our experiences aren't universal. I only wanted to_ _get your take on how it was like with you so we'd both have a better time handling ourselves now. We're partners, y'know, and good communication between partners is_ _usually within everyone's best i-_

This dark and empty place, with its complete lack of direction or reference points, has always made it nigh impossible to tell if you're actually moving through it, or if you're staying still and it's moving all around you. Very disorienting, to say the least.

Much more disorienting is an involuntary action (on your part at least) which truly gives you the feeling of being completely immobile.

The flow of determination throughout your body stops. Not like a clog in the pipes, but more like the determination itself completely solidifies. The coagulation immobilizes you, suffocates you, makes you feel like your heart's stopped, like you're being constricted by thousands of serpents.

Or, rather, vines.

_Let's get something straight, 'partner'._ It's no longer just words in your head; you can actually hear his voice now. And he sounds like the absolute antithesis of 'goofing around'. _The ONLY reason I'm here was to give you the power boost you needed to get in, protect yourself, then get out. I'm your 'fail-safe',_ _not your 'partner'. And definitely NOT your 'friend'. So don't you even THINK about trying to get all 'buddy-buddy' with me, or go digging into things that are NONE OF_ _YOUR BUSINESS. And if you can't even do something as simple and decent as keeping to yourself-_

The 'vines' tighten around your skin, your muscles, your bones, every tendon and sinew and organ of your body.

_-well, do I really need to explain any more, you idiot?_

You knew it would come to this. At least, you highly suspected it would. Sharing one body, mind, and soul like this makes having boundaries as probable as snow in a desert. That's how Flowey figured out your plan. Thoughts and emotions and secrets are now as easily obtainable as books in a library; if either of you so chose, you both possess the means to delve deep into and unearth each other's deepest, darkest parts. You can find out his most private, intimate secrets just...like...that...

Would you, though?

_...I already told you, Flowey._

You feel a tic go off in your face.

_I don't want you to feel pressured into doing anything you're not comfortable with._

You feel one of your hands twitch. Everything becomes stagnant afterwards.

_....Hmph. Good._

The constricting 'vines' yield, allowing the canals of determination to flow unobstructed once more.

_And,_ he adds, as one of your eyes looks off in disinterest and half your mouth frowns, _just so I don't hear any whining later, I'll keep the feeling_ _mutual. You don't go prying into my head, and I won't go poking into yours-_

_You mean any more than you already have?_

_Exactly._ There was scarcely a pause after you made the jab, but a pause nonetheless. _Agreed?_

_You got it,_ you agree. _We'll do the 'divide-our-room-in-half-with-tape' thing; the whole nine yards. You stay on your side, and I'll stay on mine. You_ _want the left or right half? I'm guessing the left, 'cause, y'know. Or maybe the right? Because I learned in health class that the left side of the brain controls the_ _right side of the body and the right controls the le-_

_Alright ALRIGHT I get it! ENOUGH with the analogy already! Ugh I swear, the only thing more insufferable than hearing you prattle on and on and on about some_ _boring human trivia is hearing another of your terrible pu-WAIT A MINUTE. 'Lighten up'; was that a-?!_

_Absolutely._

Half your expression forms a snarl, the other a smug smirk as a loud, growling groan fills this dark and empty place.

_Honestly,_ you think. _The only reason you should be complaining is because it took you THIS long to catch on._

_Oh SHUT UP._ You feel one eye turn to glare at the other. _And no more talking until we find Gaster!_

_I think 'thinking' is more appro-_

_You know what I mean!_

You pause a moment, then shrug one shoulder. A disgruntled huff leaves your mouth, then the sense of motion (in one way or another) once again encompasses you. This goes on for a while (or perhaps not very long at all), before Flowey nulls his own demand.

_...Don't suppose you have any idea HOW we're supposed to find this guy in here, do you?_

You frown, and shake your head more awkwardly than intended. You're still nowhere close to being accustomed to the added weight your horns have given you. And, frankly, you fear the possibility that you eventually will.

_Not a clue. Sorry; I didn't really think this part through._

A scoff leaves your mouth. _And every other part's been thought through so meticulously._

Despite yourself, you chuckle in agreement. You then turn your head (still not used to the extra weight) and look over your shoulder, back to where you just came from. Or where you _think_ you came from, at least (no sense of direction an all that).

Consciously entering this dark and empty place backwards afforded you the sight of watching the world you left behind become engulfed in darkness, like blackout curtains closing over a theatre stage. Not even the faintest beam of light filtered through, not the most muffled decibel of sound; looking back from whence you came, there is still nothing you can see nor hear but more of the void around you.

This dark and empty place has no points of reference. Not even your entry point.

So how will you get back..?

Part of your face grimaces before you turn your head back around, and shake those thoughts out of it. Deal with that bridge later; you have to focus on one thing at a time. And, right now, that means figuring out where to go to meet the one you seek.

_If only we had something,_ you ponder, a touch of helplessness in your thoughts. _Something to tell us where we are, or to mark where we've been, y'know?_ _Like what you did with the save point that time; I'm sure we'd be able to get our bearings if we had some sort of landmark-_

_Like that?_

He spots it before you do, the sudden double vision momentarily disorienting you. (Of course, you've always had double vision in this form, but to have literally nothing to look at in here made this new...'ability' much more bearable.)

Before you get too queasy from the loop you've been thrown, both your chameleon-like eyes focus on the same spot. What you see throws you an even bigger loop.

A familiar patch of earth lays before you, conspicuous and ostentatious, as though it's always been there, and you simply haven't noticed until now. It sits there, plain as day, a deviant to the darkness around you. A landmark you so fervently hoped to locate.

Yet, neither you nor your 'associate' feel inclined for celebration.

Both halves of your face frown in symmetry as you, hesitantly, approach this landmark. Or maybe it's gravitating towards you? Whatever the case, there is definitely the sense of waning distance between Point A and Point B.

And speaking of Point B...

_You feel that too, right?_ you cautiously wonder. _Like something's...off?_

_Yeah,_ Flowey agrees. _Like- like if we look at it from a different angle or something, it'll just POOF! Vanish._

You're hovering directly over it now, and looking down at it from this angle, what Flowey hypothesized is easy to see. There's a translucence about this patch of earth - which looks _exactly_ like the patch of earth where you first met Flowey in the Ruins, right down to the very last pebble. Like what lays beneath you is a mere hologram of the real thing. Or a memory.

Both halves of your frown deepen. You descend over the mound's very center, where the dirt has something else mixed in that makes it look-

White white green green green green brown dirt mulch earth grass blades soil minerals phosphorous zinc potassium nitrogen iron white whiTE WHITEWHITE _WHITEWHITEGREENG **REENGREENWHITE**_

The next thing you realize, there are claws digging into your face.

Your breaths come out in deep, heavy, beastly growls. Your lips are curled back, exposing your tightly gritted fangs, the rest of your face scrunched in a snarl and partly covered by one of your large paws. Your legs are folded up beneath you, the red thorn-like growths in your calves pressing into your thighs, your toes curled and feeling like they're on fire. That sensation isn't exclusive to those extremities; all of you is curled up and feeling scalded by an invisible inferno. And tugged; pulled harder and harder outwards and inwards, a fragile balance dangerously being pushed to its limit.

_...It's okay..._

You're not entirely positive who thinks this. One of you? Both of you? ...Neither of you?

_It's okay..._

Whatever the case, the words help restore the balance, petter the flames, soothe the tension.

_Calm down. Breathe. In and out. In and out. Everything's okay. You're fine. We're fine. It's okay. It's okay..._

Eventually, you're able to relax out of fetal position. Your breaths still hiss, but they're calmer now, each intake of air ( _is_ there even any air here??) deeper and more even than the last.

Your hand falls away from your face - you wince a little as your claws un-embed themselves from your flesh, the puncture wounds they leave behind cauterizing immediately - and it's only after that you realize where the other is. It's clutching at your chest, as though it's been trying to rip your soul out of it.

Or, more likely, trying to keep it there.

_Okay,_ words state plainly - this time you know they come from Flowey - as you force your other hand to unclench, to pull away. _THAT was super_ _unpleasant._

_You're telling me,_ you concur, tentatively flexing the stiffness out of your limbs. _That was...that was definitely something, alright._

It takes another minute (or possibly another hour) before you feel stable. Well, stable enough, at least. You take another deep breath, and both halves of your vision turn back to the mound beneath you, several expressions flitting across your face in rapid-fire sequence.

All you did was touch it. You didn't even press your whole foot into it; just the bottom of your big toe grazed the topsoil. But in that one touch, that one millisecond of contact after touchdown, was much, much more than you bargained for.

It was exactly as it was back in reality, except at least a hundred times more intense. You had no idea colors could be that dazzlingly vibrant, that the smell of soil could be so nauseatingly potent, that the mere sensation of it could overwhelm you so.

You really could not be more grateful you entered the rift when you did. Had this level of sensory overload happened when there was a lot more to become overloaded by than a dirt mound...

Half your face settles on a scowl as you continue staring at the harmless earth patch. No way you're setting foot on that thing again.

...And yet...

Your face's other half wears curiosity, a theory taking form in your mind. Gradual in your approach, careful not to make contact again, you hover precariously over the transparent earth patch. Watching carefully, making use of your heightened senses, you stretch your toe towards it once more.

The theory you formed proves itself correct, for as the closer you get to direct interaction to this 'memory', the more opaque it looks, the more real it appears to be. Smells faintly of grass and mulch.

You retract your foot, and translucence returns to the earth patch in synchronization with how quickly you pull away.

" **...Weird,** " you murmur under your breath, that deep, reverberating undertone still present in your double voice (and you get the feeling it'll stay there, no matter how quietly you speak). " **I guess...things are more probable here than out there.** "

**W̛ITH E̴N̢O̡UGH̷ ̸DE̶T͞ERMI̵N̡AT҉ION, ̶A̵NY͢TH͠ING IS̷ POSS͝I͘B̛L̷E.**

Your head snaps up, keen alertness driving everything else out of your thoughts.

**S̸U҉CH͠ IS͞ E̴S͟PȨC͏I̕ALLY̵ ̵TRUE͘ ̧HE͢RE͢, ̨I͟N͝ ̶T͠HE̢ ̵A̢B̷SǪLU̢TE҉.͏**

_Is this what you you heard? When he was-?_

_Uh-huh._

_...Yeesh. No wonder you didn't try to mimic it._

Everywhere and nowhere. Even with your heightened senses, finding one specific grain of sand on a 2-mile long beach seems a lot easier than pinpointing exactly where that voice just came from. With the voice, you become aware of a presence (other than the one inside you), and that presence feels just as difficult to pinpoint as the voice belonging to it.

" **The...'Absolute'?** " you repeat after the voice became quiet for a while. " **I thought you called this place 'the rift'.** "

Hopefully, that will get you some form of response, give you a better chance of determining where its coming from, where he's hiding.

Seconds to hours pass before one comes.

**C͢A͜LL IT͝ ̷WHA̛T ̛YOU WIL̴L͜.͜**

It's subtle, but you feel more distinction of an origin.

**TH̸E͡ ͜ANOM̷A̷L̸Y̸.͘ ̧TH̶E R̡IF͘T. ̶T̢H̢E ̧VO͜I̵D͘.̛ ̢THE͝ TIM͏ELIN̡E GRA̶V͢EYA͟R̛D.͞ ̴THȨ D̷ARKN͟ESS͠ B̕E҉Y͘OŅD ̛T͝I̛M҉E.͏ THE END OF ̕T̕I̶M͡Ę I͜TS̛E̸LF͠.**

Closer...the voice is closer.

**IT MAT̶TERS̢ NO͡T̨.͜**

The presence is near. Very near.

**A̸LL THAT͠ ͘M̡A̶T̨T͞E͝R̛S͠...I͏S҉ T̢H̷A͢T̶ ̧Y̡OƯ A͢RE H̸E͠RE҉.**

Where...?

**Y̴OU ͡AR͘E ͡HER͢E. ͟HERE͟ ̵YOU̢ AR͘E.**

It's...it's...

**AN̛D̨ ̨H̵E̕RE AM ̴I.҉**

Right behind you.

You turn around, and as you do, the presence you felt all around you coalesces to a single point, and Dr. Gaster makes his appearance.

He materializes, slowly, out of the blackness, as if emerging from behind a waterfall of tar. He looks less like the skeleton you saw in the tapes, and more like a figure carved out of seamlessly smooth marble. A head, a neck, two hands with matching holes through their centers; how glaringly white these disembodied body parts are compared to the nothingness he comes out of is a little disorienting.

No. Actually, they're not totally 'disembodied'. Perhaps you would not have been able to tell if you came here alone, but as you are now, you're able to see an incredibly faint outline standing out against the dark emptiness, carving out of it a distinct shape of what his body has become.

Even though you're sure you're taller now, he looms over you, his shoulders hunched forward and his arms bent in front of him, his posture reminding you greatly of a preying mantis. And though there's no light in this place to create one, you feel the weight of his shadow completely fall over you.

**H͢ERE͢ ̴WE͠ AR͘E.̧ ̵FIN͏ALL̨Y͘,̷ W̴E ͢MEE̷T.̛**

His head slowly turns up to stare down at you with mismatching eyelights in mismatching sockets, a wide, toothless, unfathomable smile cut across his cracked skull.

**FA̢C̛E͢. ͡T̡O͘. FACE.̵**

His voice is strange. Garbled, almost, like its coming from a radio station through an un-tuned radio. Disjointed, as though every word came to him one letter at a time, and he had to rapidly put them back together to get them out, sometimes without being entirely sure of which syllable went where. His mouth did not move when he spoke; you get the distinct impression that his mouth _can't_ move. At all. That it's even more immobile than Sans' grin most of the time.

You knew there was static whenever he was around. You expected some form of it when you met with him.

What comes as a mild surprise is how he seemes to be the very embodiment of static, in near every sense of the word.

He stares down at you, and you up at him. An unknown amount of time passes before he tilts his head, slightly, and even though his expression doesn't shift at all, you get the impression that he's only now realizing something painfully obvious.

**HUM͠AN.̛.̷.W͝H̕AT̷ H̡A͏VE̵ Y̸O͡U͠ DON͢E̕ ͏TO ͢YO̕U̧RSE҉LF̵.͢.̕?**

Part of you feels the urge to answer 'What I had to'. You do nothing but continue staring at the darkness within his eyes.

Half of your mouth, however, curls up into an unpleasant smile.

" **Disappointed, Doc?** " Flowey jeers, his voice just barely speaking over your own and practically dripping with smugness. " **Betcha didn't see this coming, didja? They must be soooo unappealing to you now, huh? Hee hee hee...** "

Before you can politely ask Flowey not to goad him on, Dr. Gaster's head tilts again. In a way that makes his immobile expression almost curious.

**NO̕.͏ ͟NOT.̡..̛DISA̶PPOINT͠E͞D,͘** he claims. **S͟H̢O҉CK̕ED̡, C̛E͟RTA̴IN̸LY.͜ MO̵MEN̡TA҉RIL͢Y ͟BEWI̴LDE͠R̶E͢D.̶ BU̷T N̕OT DI͢SA̧PPOI̧N͘T̢ED.͢ ͞R̷A͟THE͡R,̸ ͠I͞ B̷E̡L̶IEVE̶ ̡I͠ ̶A̷M..͝.͢I̧NTRI̷G̶UED, ̷YOUR͜ H̛IGH͢N҉ES҉S.**

The title makes half your expression fall, makes some muscles tense.

You, however, simply furrow a brow. " **Intrigued, Doctor?** "

Dr. Gaster straightens his neck, only to bring his head down a little closer to yours, like he's examining you.

**'͝A҉ M̸ON̡S͝ŢER ̛W̷ITH A̡ ͞HUMAN SO͞UL. A͟ HORRIB͏LE̛ BEAST ͟WITH̕ U͜N͞F̛A̢THO̶MA͝BL͝E ̨P͡O͠WER̷.' ̸'THIS PO̢WER̴ ͢HAS N͘O҉ COUN͠TER. I̶NDĘE͟D,̵ ̕A̶ HUM̛AN̡ ͏C͜ANNO̢T T̵A̴KE A ̨M̢O͏N͏S͘TER’S ͢SO͜U̸L.̢'͏**

Tension leaves your muscles as one of your eyes rolls exasperatingly. " **Greeeeaaaaat. Just what we ask for: a history lesson.** "

_Shoosh,_ you begin to mentally chide before Dr. Gaster cuts you off by continuing,

**TO͢ ĢI̶V̧Ȩ ̷YO̕U̷R SOU̵L̸, ƠR CL̨A͟IM̸ ̴AN͢OTHER͜'S.̛ ̵Y҉OƯ ͡HA͞V̶E DO͏N͞E NE͠I͘THER, HU͟MA͝N. ̷I̕N͠S҉T͝E͞AD͠,̴ ̨Y͢OU ͞AC̢C̸OM̡PL̨ISH͜ WHA̶T͡ ͏NONE D̴AR͞ĘD,̢ ͢N̛O̧NE D͢R͟EAM̧ED, NON̨E͟ EV̵E͡N BE̴LIEVE̛D͡ P͝OSS̕I̧B̵LE͞ B̴EFOR͘E.̨**

The more he looms over you like this, the more he feels like a hawk surveying its prey before swooping in.

**I͟NF͟U̸SING Y͘OU͞R S̛OUL ̴W̵I̸T̷H F͢ORȨIGN D͞ETER͜M̢INA̢TI͡ON͞. ENGORGIN͠G͟ Y͏OU̵RSE̛L͟F W͡ITH M͟O̸R͢E̢ T̷H͝A͟N A̧NY ͠LIV̛IN͟G C͟R̨EAT͜U̷RĘ ҉H͝AS NATURAL̵LY ̸B̸E͘EN A͘BL҉E̸ ̸TƠ ̡PR͟OD̵U̵CE. Y͜OUR ̕S̴O͞UL͢ C͝OU͠LD ͡N̡O̧T ͏C̷O͏MPEN͘S͡A̷T̡E͝ FO҉R I͝T͝.̧ IN̕S̵T̶EA͜D..̡.͜**

He doesn't come any closer. You notice one of his hands perk up.

**ON͜E ̨SOU͟L̕, ͏HOUSIN͘G T͢WO̕ C̢O͟NSCIOUSNȨSSES͝, W̕I͡TH͏ A ̸NEAR LETH̶AL ̕SUR̴P͝L̨US̵ OF͟ DETERM҉I̧N͢ATI͞O̷N ̴WI͟T̷H͟IN ͡I͘T.҉**

The hand moves forward.

**TO C̸OMP͜ENSA͝TE ̨THE E͏X̷CE̸SS͜, TO ̢P͜REVEN҉T ͢LOSŞ O̵F͢ MIND̶ ҉AND ҉LI̵FE̶,͡ Y̷OU͏ UND҉ER̸G͠O̴ ͜A̕ ͠GHAST̨LY TRAN̵S͟F̷O͜RM͟ATI̛O͞N̷. ͜B̨EC͠OME͟ ͢T͏HȨ ҉HORR̶I͏BLE ̶B̛ȨA̴ST̸ ͞WI̧T̵H UN̶FA͏T͜HO̸MA͏B͟L͞E͡ POWER. ̶AL̶L̡ WI͏TH̶ ̢JU͞S̶T ̛ONE ̛S̡OUL͠.**

His long, thin fingers, none of them uniformly-bent, twitch.

**ON͜E͟ ҉S̕OUL. TWO ̶CO̧N͡S͞CIO҉US̨N̨ESSES. ͠TH͢E҉ ̢DUA͝LĮTY͡ WITHI͏N THIS SINĢULA͘RITY̕.̕ ͠IT ͟IS ̧V͝E̷RY̶..**

They reach toward you.

**VE̴R͠Y͟..͠.**

They reach for the center of your chest.

**IN̴T͝ER̛E̡ST҉I̢-**

You don't know how else to describe it. It's like something within you, something you didn't know you _had_ , rushes out of you. Takes shape, takes physical form. Flanks you and flutters around you like buzzing bees.

Dr. Gaster notices before you do. Before he can get another word in, as you notice large white pellets haloing you, your voice comes out positively ghoulish and threatening, sounding not at all like his or your own:

" ** _T O U C H    U S    A N D    Y O U    L O S E    T H E    R E S T    O F    T H A T    H A N D ._** "

The pellets do not stay, the sensation does not last. Both fizzle out almost immediately after the words leave your mouth, which formed a fang-bearing snarl as Flowey issued his warning.

No. More like his _guarantee_.

_F-Flowey!_ you chastise, though there's not much force behind your admonishment.

_What?_ he challenges. _I was just doing what you brought me here for! Or did you WANT this-this ink stain getting handsy with us?_

_You could have been a little calmer about it! You didn't have to threaten him or...or..._

You realize your breaths are shaky. You only realize your hands are just as much when you look down at them, only one half of your vision focusing on your large palms.

_What WAS that..?_

**..̛.͡I̸NTERE̕S̢T͞ING̛. Y̕OU ̵C͘A̛N UŞE ̧M͏A̢GI̕C ͜IN THI̷S FORM̛.**

Half your gaze remains fixated on the veins of determination in your skin.

**NEVE̶RTHE͝LE̛SS͠,̡ I MUS̸T̡ ADVI͡SE̡ ̛AG̶A̡INST F͜UR͝TH҉E҉R APP̕LICA̛TI͡O҉N҉ ̕WHI̷L͘ST͜ ̸Y͡O͟U'̢RE̴ ̨H̸E̶R̴E.̸** Dr. Gaster's voice sounds far away. **S̵U͟CH ̷DI͏S͢PLAYS҉ WI͘L̵L̕ ̢BE̵N͝E͠F͝I҉T͏ N̢E҉I̵T̨H̷E͟R҉ ͡P̢A͜R͝T͜Y. WHI̢CH N͞ONE̛ ̡OF͞ ̸U̶S͡ DESI̡RE. THE͡RE ̛I̴S N̷O NE͞ED TO BE̷ ̧SǪ DE͝F҉EN̵S͞IVE, ̶YO͠U͠R͠ H̛IG̡HNE͟SS̛.͏**

Your other half of your vision gives the doctor a very pointed stare. " **No need, huh?** " your voice scoffs. The pointed stare shifts downward a fraction. " **Then why is THAT still there?** "

The statement prompts you to lift up half your gaze from your hands, to see a much paler, holey-er one still inches away from your chest, long, thin fingers still reaching for your soul.

**.͘..̡OF̸ CO̡UR͞S͏E.̸**

His hand pulls away, and his 'body' straightens.

**HO͞W̨ ̕C̛A͢RELESS OF̧ M̷E.͡** If you didn't know better, Dr. Gaster almost sounds flustered. **I͢ OV҉ERS͏T͞EP͠P̕E̵D ̶A̧N͡D ͞MADE͜ ̧YOU U͟NC̛O͠MF̨ORT͜ABL̡E̛. MY̨ APOL̢OGIES.҉**

Before the incredulous scoff you feel rising in your throat has a chance to leave it, you quickly answer, " **I-It's okay, Dr. Gaster. I didn't mind. Not at all.** "

You mask the pain you feel in your heart with an understanding half-smile. " **You...You've been here for a long time, haven't you? All alone, in this dark and empty place, with no one to talk to but yourself for all this time. Your social skills were bound to be a little rusty. Right?** "

Dr. Gaster stares at you, considering you. Then his head turns away, an almost thoughtful look in his gaze that looks past you, into the darkness around you.

**...MA̵Y͏BE҉ ̶SO.̵**

Your half-smile widens.

" **And, y'know, it _is_ pretty interesting. Being like this. Of course - and I don't know if you saw that or not - right now we're a little...'sensitive' to everything. I'm sure that's only an issue of getting use to it that'll fix that. And using magic was...it was something else. _That's_ something I can really get used t-** "

" **Let's just cut to the chase already. What do we gotta do to spring you outta here?** "

You notice a twitch go off somewhere in Dr. Gaster's body. An arm, maybe? Slowly, his face turns back toward you, and even though his expression hasn't changed in the slightest, he looks surprised.

**I̴.̸.͞.̸BEG͘ ͞Y̨O̴U̡R PARD͞O͘N?͢**

" **You heard me,** " your shared voice snaps, half your face sneering. " **We came here for one reason and one reason alone: to get you out. So if you have any inkling of how we can do that, we're just _dying_ to hear it.** "

Dr. Gaster keeps staring at you for what feels like a long time before his gaze shifts, slightly, to focus more on the right half of your face than the left.

**I̢S̵ TH̸I͜S TRUȨ, HU͠M̡A͡N?** he asks, his tone unreadable. **Y̴OU͏ ̶CAM̷E̕ ̵HE҉RĘ.̢.̕.O҉NLY̛ ̨TO̵ ͢'̕F̕REĘ'̸ M͞E..?̵**

Your half-smile is gone. Replacing it is a scowl directed at the other half of your face.

_I was going to get around to that._

_Could've fooled me._

_I wanted to bring it up casually!_

_You were rambling again, idiot._

_You really couldn't have WAITED?_

_I DON'T want to get used to this, you idiot!_

Your face and thoughts go blank with shock. Then, a horrid realization overcomes you.

You really were genuinely _entertaining_ that thought, weren't you?

Half your face grimaces, slightly. How could you lose focus like that? You can't get used to this; you just _can't_. If you do, then...well, that's something you don't want to think about at all.

You close your eye, inhale deeply through your snout-like nose, then sigh through your fangs. After giving Flowey a mental note of thanks for getting you back on track ( _Don't mention it. Really. Don't._ ), you open your eye, both of them meeting Dr. Gaster's gaze properly.

" **You wanted me to come here. For us to meet face to face."** You keep your voice level, or as level as you can make it right now. **"I don't know why it had to be here. I don't know why you wanted us to meet like this. I just figured...you had something you wanted to tell me. Something important. But to get here...it took a lot of work. I had to...do things...** "

Dr. Gaster keeps staring.

" **Whatever you want from me, whatever you want to tell me...I figured it would be a whole lot easier for you to do so when you're not stuck here. When you're completely 'here'. When you're...'yourself'.** "

You don't think he's even able to blink.

You start to shift, shyly, under his gaze. " **If...If there's something I can do to get you out of here, to bring you back to reality, then I want to take that chance. If it's within my power, if you'll let me...I would like to help you, Doctor.** "

To combine both your determination to give you power. Enough power, you hope, to restore the doctor to his former self, and together, all three of you would leave this dark emptiness behind you once and for all.

This is the plan Flowey discovered before. With any luck, with any _hope_ , it will not be fruitless.

Dr. Gaster's gaze remains entirely fixated on you, not once straying as he processes your proposal. At least, that's what you think he's doing. What you _hope_ he's doing. There's no reaction from him for long enough that both sides of you start to feel the twinge of awkwardness. " **Uh...Docto-?** "

It's subtle, and you're sure you would not have caught it without your heightened senses, but you begin to notice a change in Dr. Gaster's demeanor. At the beginning of this encounter, he came off to you as some stray animal presented with something new: cautious, yet very curious. Like he hadn't made up his mind about how he felt about you. The change you notice marks the end of that trial period; he's decided how he feels about you now.

Whatever he's decided, it's triggering your flight or fight response. Even more so once he starts laughing.

The sound comes from both in front of you, and seemingly all around you. A brief memory from Flowey flashes through your thoughts; he recognizes it as the dry, dark chuckle he once heard filtering through static.

It's similar, yes, but there's something more to it now than just dry darkness. Something hard to place. Is it amusement? Not really. Condescension? A little bit, but not exactly. If anything, it's more like it's...it's...

Dangerous.

Not even his shoulders shake as he laughs. As it dies out, Dr. Gaster's posture shifts, that hard-to-place emotion in his gaze as he looks down on you. In both the figurative and literal sense.

**AND ̶WH̕AT ͜M͘A͞KE͜S͏ ͝YO̢U ̸T҉HĮNK ͝YO͝U͏ ͠CA̶N '̨H̸E͠L͢P'͏ ̛ME?̷**

Since combining yourselves, while the control between the two of you remained equal, Flowey has had more dominance over the left half of your body, and you the right. When one of you spoke, both your voices would be present, his speaking over yours when he talked, and vice versa. Duality within the singularity, as the doctor phrased it, though there's never been a true sense of 'unity' between you two.

That changes now, however, as both your arms gesture broadly to yourself, and both your voices harmonize to ask, in a very deadpan tone,

" ** _Really_**?"

" **You _literally_ just said anything's possible with enough determination,** " Flowey quips.

" **And that we've become this 'horrible beast' with 'unfathomable power',** " you add on.

" **Granted, we're not exactly the Absolute God of Hyperdeath over here.** "

" **STILL.** "

Neither of you say anymore, still riding high on your moment of solidarity, and wait for the doctor's response.

...

......

.........

And he sure is taking his sweet time with it. All he's done so far is move his head up and down, immobile eyelights studiously considering you horn to toe.

**.͢..P͘O͟ĮNT̶ TAKE̵N,̛** he eventually remarks. **A͟LLO̷W ͝M͠E TO͜ R͟E̸PHR͡A͠SE,̶ ͜T͠HEN.**

Suddenly, he's directly in front of you, eyes so deeply staring into yours you can see violet in his eyelights.

**W͘H͝A̶͠T̡ ̸̨M̕A̴͠KE̕S͏ Y̛͟O̸͟͝U ̸̷͜T͜͞H̸̡͏I̴̧N̡͟K̛ ̕͟Y̶OU̧̕ ͜ _S̨͏H̸̛͠O͏͟U̕͜L͠D͞_ ̧͜H̨E̵͝L͢͞P̡ M̴͠E̵?**

You flinch, but hold your ground.

**I HA̢VE W̶A̷TC҉HE̡D YOU͘,̷ H̵U̢MAN.** He starts to circle around you, slowly, his movements like a ghost's (if a ghost could be made out of tar). **I̛ HAV͢E̶ ̧SE͡EN ͟YOUR͢ ȨV͟E͘ŖY͞ ͠ACTI͡OŅ.̨ ̶I̧ HA͢VE͡ DETE͟R̸MI͟N̕ED͜ ͜Y҉O͠UR̛ ̧MO̶TI̸VATI͏O҉N͟S. ̸AN͘D̡ I ̢H̡AV̷E ͏CONCL͟U͠DED ŢHAT YOU A̸R̕Ę N͢O̸T ҉THE̢ T̢Y̕P̛E̡ OF̧ P͢E̴R͢SO͠N͢ ͟TO͢ IM͜ME͞DIA̷TELY̛ ̕DE̢S̛I̕R͏E T͘O 'HELP'̴ ̸A͢ ÇO̕MPLETE̷ ̡STR҉AN҉G͢ER͟.**

**N̶O̕.** Though he's constantly been smiling, you actually feel it in his voice now. **YOU ͜H͢A̧D͝ TO ͠K̢I̴LL T̕HE̵M̧ FI̶RST.̕**

You feel part of you cringe.

**Y҉OU ͘H҉A҉D TO ͞K̷NO̧W ͞W̵HA̴T ̧MO̡T͏IV̴A͠TED ŢHE̸M.͘ Y̸OU ̛ḨAD TO̴ ̧KNO̵W̸ W͞HY ̵TH̸E̕Y D͡I͏D ͟WH̢A̧T̛ ŢH̶EY ̨D̡I̡D. ̡Y͏O̶U͜ HA͡D ̕T͜O͘ ĶNO͏W̡ WHA̷T̷ T͢HEY ̛W͢O̴UL̵D̶ D͘O IN̛ ͝ANY͜ G҉IV̢EN͞ ͢S͝ITUA͜TI͜ON. ͝WH̕AT̛ T̷H͢EY ͡W̵OU̧L͝D DO I̴F YO҉U̵ ̢A͜CTE̷D͢ A ̶C̕ER͢TAI͠N W͟AY̕. H̡O͡W T̵HEY WO҉UL͟D ҉RE̷AC͢T WHEN̴ ̷YOU K͠IL͢L͏ED̷ ̵S̵ƠM̸ĘO͢N̛E ͡TH̷E̴Y̢ K̕NE̴W̶.̴ ̶S͟O̡MEON̡E THEY LO͡VȨD. ONL҉Y THEN D͜ID ͘YO͡U ͏F͞E͜E͝L C҉OM̛P̛ELLED ͡T͜O CON҉N̵E̡C͡T WIT̶H T͞H̵EM. ̶Y͝OU ͢ON̷LY̶ ͏DESI̕RED ̡T̕O ͢BE TH̨EIR҉ ̧F͡RI͞E̕ND ̵ _AF̨T͠ER̷_ ͟YOU ̕CAKE̛D ̧Y͢ǪU͡R͘ ͏H͡A͜ND͏S W͟IT̡H͜ T̛HEI̛R ̷D͞U҉S͝T.͜ ͟OV̴E̢R̢. ̢AND̶ ͟OV̷E͡R. A̶ND͘ ͝O͟VER.**

You feel your hand clench into a fist.

**.͝..YOU WA͜NT ͡T͞O DE͢N̛Y͢ ̶I̛T.̨ YO̕U WAN͜T͢ TO S͘A̷Y͜ 'IT ҉W̨AS҉N̴'҉T͡ ͞LIK͟E THAT͜,' ̛O͟R,͝ ̷'I̵T'S ͢N҉OT ͜L̢I̸KE͏ ̡T̨HAT̢ ̡ANY MORE.͘' BUT҉ W̡E ͟B̨OTH͢ ͟K̵N̕O̕W ̛TH̴E̡ T͢R҉U̧TH.͡** His voice feels directly in your ear. **DO̸N̢'̷T ͘WE͡?**

You feel something deep within you wither.

**PE̷RH҉APS̴...IT ̛ _I̕S̴_ NOT ͡L̕I̕ĶE̸ T͝H͏AT ̵ANY M͟O̢R͟E. ̸PERH̕APS ̶YOU ̴NE͟E͡D̛ NOT̛ ̶K̴NOW͘ I͡F T̛HE̡ OTH͢E͜R͟ ͟P̕ER͝SO͠N̴ HAS̨ SO͏M͝E ̢U͡L̡TERIO̸R ͞MOT͠IV̢E B͜E͠F̵OR̛E̛ R̵EACHI͜NG ͜OUT TO ͟T͢H̢EM͝. ͡I͜F͞ ̴TH̷A͞T ̨I͡S͡ S̶O, THEN WH̨A͢T̷ I̧S YOUR ͘MO̶TIV̛A̕TI̶ON̡ ̶NOW?͝ WH҉Y ̛DO ̶Y̴O̷U ͏N̕OW̶ FE̛EL̴ ̧C̕ǪM̸PE̢LLED ̸T̶O̷ ̡'͝H̸EL̨P͡' ͡SOM̷E͠ON͜E̷ ̧E̢LS͜E?̶ SOMEON͝E.͠..S͡UCH ҉AS̛ I?**

Gaster completes his rotation, stopping, once again, extremely close in front of your face.

**I,̴ W͢H͝O̵ ҉T҉O͝R͟E̷ SOU̵L̸S҉ ͡O͞U̡T OF̢ ̴TH͜EIR EXP͜IRE͝D͝ ̧HOSTS.͏ I̛,҉ ̷WH͠Ǫ DIS̕REG͝A̡R̨DED̸ TH̷E L͟AW͠S ͝OF SPA̕C͜E̛T̢IME F̛O̧R̶ THE͟ SAK͟E O͜F͝ M͠Y̢ E͠X̴P͠E̷R͏IME̛N͢TS. ̕I̕,͡ W̧HO͠ ͘A͝L̕L̶ƠWE̛D̕ ̷O̶T̸H҉ER̵S T͡O͜ D̵I͟E̡ ͟F̷OR ̕M͘Y ͠B͝E͡N͢EF͝IT̵.͜ I͠, ͠W̨HO C̵OMPRO͝MI͢SED- ͟NO,̵ ͠WHO ̕ _S͞HA͏T͏TE͠RED͞_ ̷Y͏O̕UR̕ ̡AL͞R̷E͝A̢DY͝ FRA̛G͠IL̵E ̡SE̶N̴SE͡ OF A͢U͏T͏ON̶OM̷Y, ̵WH͝O FO͠RCED YOU T̶O DO MY̶ B̕ID̢D̶ING,͠ W̕HO ͠M̶AD͡E YOU SO ̧U͡NE҉QUI̸V҉O̶C̷ALLY ͝B̴E̢L̛I͏E̵V҉E ̴Y̵O̵U N̵E̢EDE̷D ͠TO̵ CL͢E̴AVE Y̛O̕U͡R͡S̷EL̴F ̢T͝O ME, ̶T̸O B̨E̶ ͠COMP̨L͢ȨTE͝L͜Y͢ ͝OBSE͝Q͘UI͡O̶US͝ ̴T̨O̢ ME͞. A͡ND Y̴O̴U̸ ̵WA͠N͜T ͠T͏O ͝ _HEL͞P͠_ ͠M̶E?͜**

You feel yourself grimace.

Gaster lets his last statement hang, still lingering uncomfortably close in front of you, before he releases another grim chuckle. **YOU TR̴UĻY͝ AR͢E ͟A ̛VER͞Y͞ I̷N͟T͏ERE̕STIN̶G̛ ĮN͠DIVID͞U̡AL͡, HUMA͘N͠.̶ ̶I҉F҉ ̢N͡OT A N͡A̢I̕V̶EL̵Y̵ ̨FOO̸LIS̶H ̕O͏NE.̷**

You can't look him in the eye anymore.

...Well, _half_ of you can't. The other half glares right at him, makes your voice drop into a growl.

" ** _Back off_ , Doc,**" Flowey snarls. " **Or did you already forget what happens to slimy creepers who have no respect for personal boundari-?** "

" **Why are you trying to make me change my mind?** "

You cut off Flowey's threat with a measured tone. Though your half of your gaze remains turned away, Flowey's half catches the flinch Gaster makes at your remark.

**..̵..͡..̷D̷O NO͞T ̛MIS͏C̵O͡N̸S̨T͘ŖUE͘ ͝M҉Y WORD̕S̕, HU̵MAN.̢** He gives you a little breathing room (so to speak), his tone near unreadable yet not so grim or dark anymore. **I͡ AM N̕OT TRYING ͜T͘O͝ D̛I̸S͘SU͞AD̨E YOU;͞ I̸ ̧SIMPLY W͞I͝S̵H͏ TO ŲN̴D̶ER҉ST͏AND͝ ̵WH͘AT͠ ̸DRIV̛ES͡ Y̶OU TO͡ MAK̕E ̛SU͜C̶H͟ ͝AN͏.̛..ARG̶ŲA̷BL̶E̸ ͜D͜EC̕I͝S̵I̛ON.͏**

A scoff leaves your mouth. " **Yeah, right.** " But you feel that even Flowey's curious to hear what you have to say. Why you want to help Gaster, after everything he's done.

...Really? The answer to that isn't _that_ obvious?

" **Because you're actually questioning whether or not you deserve mercy.** "

That gets half your face to smooth over, and Gaster to pull back further.

" **You're...I don't think you're giving yourself enough credit, Doctor,"** you elaborate, only one half of your gaze remaining on him. **"All you've pointed out are the questionable things you've done, to make yourself look like the bad guy. But that's over-simplifying things; just because you've done some bad things, it doesn't make you a 'bad guy'. That you don't deserve forgiveness.** "

Gaster doesn't say anything.

A weak, sad half-smile pulls at your mouth. " **I'm projecting, I know. But I...I used to think that way, too. That I've done too many bad things to deserve to be forgiven. To this day...I still feel that way sometimes...** "

Flowey offers no comment.

" **Even though I've felt that way, that I still feel that way, it hasn't stopped everyone from forgiving me nonetheless. Even after knowing what I've done...** "

Your half smile widens. " **They've...they've been so good to me. They've helped me so much. I can't say how grateful I am for how much they love me; all I've been able to do is love them back. I'm not saying that because I 'have' to; I genuinely do love them-** "

**E̕VEN THO̴U̡G͡H, ̛I͞N͡ TH͜E͢M, YO̢U ͢S̴AW̧ Y̨O̷UR PAST̡ ͘ABU̸SER̷S?̕**

There is no atmosphere in this dark and empty place. No temperature nor the sensation of it falling or rising.

That does not change the fact you feel goosebumps spread across your skin, and a chill go down your spine as though a gust of frigid air suddenly blew through you.

You go very, very silent.

" **Ohhh, playing therapist now, are we?** " You feel that unpleasant half-grin stretch across half your face again. " **And playing it poorly, it seems. Hee hee hee, how's the stratosphere feel, Doc? Because that is one serious case of _reaching_ you've got th-** "

" **You're right.** "

The unpleasant grin falls. Half your gaze catches Gaster's reaction (he looks like he wasn't expecting that) before it crosses, looks to the other half of your face. " **Say what?** "

You say no more for a moment, then a grim chuckle leaves your mouth. " **You're right. You're absolutely, a hundred percent right.** "

You feel half your face go blank with shock. _Frisk what're you saying??_

" **...I wasn't going to say anything, thinking it'd just sound like excuses, but...** " You shake your head. " **That's not gonna satisfy you. Is it?** "

Gaster doesn't make a peep.

An unpleasant grin, one that comes entirely from you, spreads across your face.

" **I wasn't trying to deny what you said; about how I only 'reached out' to the others after killing them. I _knew_ it was true; I just wasn't brave enough to admit it. I _know_ , okay? I know it was just...so... _unbelievably_ crappy of me. That I only wanted to befriend them _after_ watching them die by my own hands...** "

Half your face remains blank.

" **But it's just like you said, Doctor: I saw my past abusers in the people I encountered in the Underground. That scared me. More than the fact they were literal monsters who would attack me; they had traits in them that reminded me too much of the people I ran from. And that _terrified_ me...** "

Your voice strained slightly on the last note. Your expression wavers, only a little, as a phantom pain in your left arm makes you clutch at it with your right hand.

Both Gaster and Flowey remain silent.

" **I was scared. I lashed out. I didn't think of anything other than leaving the Underground, of running away again.**

" **And then, the first reset happened. And I started listening to their voice.** "

That makes a tic go off in the left side of your face.

" **And I kept listening to their voice. Kept being swayed by their thought process, how they rationalized my decisions, how they justified every number added to the kill counter. And I...I didn't stop them...** "

Your grin becomes more unpleasant as another grim chuckle leaves it. " **Want to play 'therapist' with me, Doctor? Then you're in for a real treat, because I'm about** **to tell you something I don't think-...no. I _know_ I've never told anyone else before:**

" **I wanted it.** "

You feel your posture shift, almost as though your left half just tried to step away from your right.

" **I wanted it,** " you repeat, softly, for as much as you're admitting it aloud to someone else, you're admitting it aloud to yourself. " **I may not remember, exactly, how much of me did, but I wanted it. I wanted to fight back. I wanted to make them stop hurting me. I wanted them to know how much they hurt me. I wanted...to make them _pay_.**

" **And being a human, being so much stronger than them...well, it made it easier.** "

Gaster remains silent as ever.

" **And you know what?** " Your smile grows bitter. " **I liked it. It made me feel better. I felt...It was...Uh...** "

Your face screws up in thought as you look down, and softly snap your fingers. " **I _know_ there's a word for it; what was it again? Umm...** "

" **...Justified?** " Flowey hesitantly suggests.

" **No, that's not it.** "

" **Validating?** "

" **That's...closer? I think? I'm pretty sure it starts with a 'C'. Or maybe a 'K'?** "

" **Karma, then?** "

" **Uh...maybe??** "

**T͝HE ̷TE̷RM YO͢U ̸ARE͟ ͝TH̶I͢NKI̢NG̶ OF, I҉ BEL̛I̡EVE, I͡S ̶'C͞ATH̡ART̸IC'.**

You snap your fingers again, with more emphasis this time. Bingo. " **That's it; cathartic! It was...cathartic...** "

A silence follows this revelation. In it, half your face gradually falls until you wear a broken smile.

" **...But it didn't last. It didn't last long at all.** "

Neither of your conversation partners say anything.

" **Killing them over and over, making them pay again and again; it stopped making me feel better. Because, with every reset, death became meaningless if I could just make it all go away. Everything became meaningless, predictable. Sets of numbers, lines of dialogue...that's how everything became to me.** "

You feel your left side squirm, a little.

" **I can't pinpoint when, exactly, it stopped being cathartic, but when it did, how it started to feel after that...** "

Both your arms hang limply at your sides, your smile becoming more broken than before.

" **I just...stopped feeling. Like I just _couldn't_ make myself feel anything. I became numb. I didn't care. I couldn't care.**

" **And that's when Chara _really_ started controlling me.** "

The mention of their name makes your left half wince.

" **It's how things went from bad to worse for the monsters. Why each new timeline was more dust-filled than the last. Because I let someone else take charge. Because I couldn't care enough to question them, to fight them, to stop them..."** A soft chuckle makes your shoulders bounce. **"That's just what happens, I guess, when people like me take it easy...** "

_They broke you._

The passing thought makes your right eye glance towards your left, the prickle of moisture irritating it. _I used to think you couldn't break what was already broken. But looks like they found a way, huh?_

Your left eye looks away, the corresponding brow furrowing over it.

" **By not caring, I let things get worse. And it would've gotten so bad it was going to be completely irreversible. ...If not for Sans.** "

You notice, just barely, one of Gaster's hands twitch.

" **Because I fought him, because I defeated him, because I killed him...it made me realize something. It made me realize that he - that they - weren't just lines of code, or enemies I had to defeat. They were _alive_ ; I was killing real, living people. I didn't think much of it, really, because of how monsters die. But that time...as Sans died...**"

You feel more moisture accumulate in your eye as a bitter laugh makes your shoulders shake.

" **Now isn't _that_ just so unbelievably crappy of me? That I only realized how much of a _monster_ I had become because I made him do something as human as _bleed_??** "

No one has an answer for this. You are extremely grateful they don't.

You take a shaky breath and run a hand down your face, over your muzzle, sneakily wiping your eye as you do. ". **..After that, after knowing what I'd done, well, it's just like you said: that's when I started trying to be more open to them, to understand them. After that, I came to understand a lot of things. Like how most monsters, when we fought, weren't deliberately trying to kill me. That one book in the library said that magic is a form of expression; they didn't realize most of their 'bullets' hurt humans like me. And I understood why Toriel...why Mom...** "

As the words leave your mouth, a sudden epiphany makes your face smooth over.

" **...Heh...you know what? I think I understand something else now. I might have realized it before, subconsciously; actually I'm pretty sure I did. But I know how to put it into words now. I know now, why that cathartic feeling didn't last, why killing them never satisfied me.**

" **It's because _they're_ not _them_.** "

You feel your left brow crease in confusion. _Huh?_

Gaster remains silent, though you sense he's just as confused as your 'soul-mate'.

So, you elaborate, " **You said it already, Doctor: in my family of monsters, I saw people from my past. I won't deny that. But, the thing is, they _weren't_ those people. They weren't the ones who bullied me, who abused me, who broke my arm _just_ for talking back-!** "

The phantom pain flares once more. You resist the reflex to hold where it's most concentrated.

" **...That's something I almost didn't realize in time. When things got to their absolute worse. All that time, all that frustration and anger and hate from my past, and I had taken it out on people who didn't deserve it. Who had no idea how much they reminded me of those people. But _they_ weren't _them_. They never were.** "

Gaster still makes no remark.

" **...That isn't to say they haven't done things to hurt me all on their own. Just how wrong of me it was to hold them accountable for what someone else did. And realizing that, how much I wronged them...heh. It was just another reason why I made my decision.** "

The left half of your mouth frowns deeply. " **What...decision?** "

Your half of your expression had become stormy as you were talking. Now, the storm clears, leaving a peaceful, if not resignful, half smile in its wake.

" **I figured...it was just a matter of feeling ready. Of being satisfied. I had to let them see that humanity was different, that it had changed. If only one person, one human, showed them kindness, mercy, love...it'd give them hope that they would make peace with the humans once they returned to the surface. That's why I befriended everyone this time, why I didn't gain any LOVE; heck it's why I paid off Sans' tab. So that, when the time came for Asgore and I to fight...I...** "

**Y͢O͡U̡ D̵ĮD̢ NO̷T͠ ͠IN̛T͜END TO͢ COM͢E̶ B̧A͏C̛K̕.̕**

It's not a question. You close your more dominate eye, and bow your head.

" **...If it was for them. If it meant they could get to the surface. ...If it meant I did not have to do it all again...that we'd all be _free_...** "

You can't elaborate any further. Everything becomes quiet for a while.

" **...But then they came.** "

A weak smile curves your mouth, an expression like you're still bewildered by that simple fact crossing your face.

" **They came. They stopped the fight. I couldn't believe it. I thought that it was too good to be true. Of course it turned out to be a trap but, for _once_ , they actually _came_...** "

You feel your hands shake. You suppress the rising emotion that's making them do so with a deep breath and a head shake that makes your long hair whip back and forth.

" **But enough about that. I didn't come here to meet you so you could pick my brain, Doctor. I'm here to fulfill some unfinished business.** "

**...̢UN̸FIN͜I̶SHED̴.̕.͠.** He sounds befuddled. **B͞USINESS..҉?̶**

You raise your more dominate hand, spending a moment noting how similar it looks to a boss monster's paw, before bringing it to your chest. Even though it's not touching your overflowing soul, you can feel it beating.

" **My soul is full of determination. That determination gave me a special power. The power to rewrite time, to change fate. And since I have this special power...isn't it my responsibility to do the right thing? To fulfill the prophecy everyone seems to think I'm the angel from? To set _every_ monster free?** "

A very long pause follows this philosophy.

**...̕SO͜ TH̵A̡T̨ IS̶ ̶YO҉UR R̛E͢ASON̸. ̸Y͟OU ҉S͘EȨK͜ T͏O ̧HEL̛P҉ ̶ME.͞.͢.̕OU̴T ͢OF ͢A ̸S̶ȨNSĘ O͘F ̨D̕U̵T̡Y.͝**

His tone is even, measured. Sounds to you like he's trying to decide how he feels about this. Factoring your reasoning into whatever decision he'll make.

" **Doctor...I don't really think my reason should matter that much to you.** "

Your hand falls away from your chest, and you lift your head to meet his gaze proper once more.

" **The fact that I'm willing to help you should be enough on my part. But you... _do_ you want this, Dr. Gaster? Do you want to leave this place? To be able to walk in the sunlight, to interact with the world, to connect with other people, without needing me to be your host? Don't you want to see your sons again?** "

That last remark, you notice, makes Gaster flinch.

You make your expression turn kind, understanding. " **Duty, obligation, prophecy-fulfillment; what motivates me shouldn't matter. You have to decide for yourself if this is what you really want. So I...I implore you, ask yourself:** "

You hold his gaze, firmly, with both eyes full of determination.

" **What do _you_ want?** "

Dr. Gaster doesn't hold your gaze for very long. He turns his head to one side, eyelights staring out into the vast emptiness around you. You notice him bring his hands together, fingers ghosting over the holes in his palms. More like ghosting _through_ , actually; it's barely noticeable, but you can see the tips of his fingers phasing through his hands, reaffirming his lack of physical presence, his incompleteness.

Another long, weighted pause passes.

.........

**...̢IT WOU̵L͟D̡.͞.҉.͝BE͝ ̢NI̢CE̵. I T͡H̨IN͢K. ͟T͞O SE͟E͝ ͟THE̕M͘ AGA̛IN...͞**

There's a slight tremor in his disjointed voice. A look in his eyes. One that makes your gaze even more kind and understanding.

" **And, if there's any way I can make that happen, I'll do it. I'll do whatever it takes to help you, Dr. Gaster.** "

He appears unable to look you in the eye again. You notice his hands start to tremble.

" **...You'd be smart not to argue with them anymore, Doc,** " Flowey interjects. " **This idiot has a savior complex and WAY more determination than they know what to do with. Best give them something to do with it before they decide to do something _really_ stupid with it.** "

_Gee,_ you think, flatly. _Thanks._

_You're welcome,_ he responds, with only a touch of irony.

**.̨.̢.͢AN̵D ̴Y͜O͏U,̢ ̡MY ͝PR͜IŅÇE?**

Stirred from that very engaging exchange, both your eyes glance up (not moving in perfect synchronicity) to find Dr. Gaster peering down at you out of the corner of his half-closed eye socket.

**YOU ҉A҉RE WI̢L͠LI̕NG ̴TO ̡DO ͏'͢W͘H͢ATE̡VE͡R҉ ͝IT͡ ͟TA̸KES'?̛ ͞Y҉OU ALS̕O̕ W͠IS͞H͘...T͠O S҉ET ME̢ F̢RĘE?**

There's no reply, at first, then a scoff bursts from your mouth. " **Honestly, even if I _could_ , I couldn't give less of a crap about what happens to you. The only reason I'm still interested in this whole thing is 'cause I wanna see what happens next. Simple as that.**"

His phrasing leaves little to be desired, but considering who you're dealing with, at least he isn't trying to make you change your mind or stop you.

**.̕.̵.̧AND ̴YE̷T̢.҉ '҉WH͡A͘T ̨HAPPE̶NS ͡N͟EXT̢'̧ MAY NOT҉ B̷E͟ ̨AS҉ ͜SIMP̛L͏E AS ҉THAT͘ AT A͞LL̴**

The statement makes you perk up. " **You have an idea?** "

Dr. Gaster looks thoughtful. **AN ̕I͠N͝KL͜ING ̧OF̶ ̸A̵N͡ ̶ID͟EA,̴ ̷M̢I̛ND YOU̧. ̨B͟UT ̕P͡ER͘H̛A̕PS̵..̧.Y̸EŞ, ̧I͠T͘ ̵C̡ƠULD ͏W͝O͘R̡K̛. BUT̴ FIRST͡.̛ YO̵U MUS̶T̛ T͝ȨL̢L ̕M̶E.͞**

His gaze passes over you as he turns his head down. **H͞O͜W͡ DID͞ YO͘U M͝A̕KE TH̡A͘T ͏A̕P̨PEAR?͟**

You follow his line of sight, and find yourself staring at the transparent ground beneath your feet. Oh yeah, that's still there. But...did _you_ really make it appear?

" **Beats me,** " you answer. You look to your left half. " **Flowey?** "

Your left half is frowning. Then, your shoulders shrug. " **I guess, because you were talking about landmarks while I was thinking about when we first met, we just sorta? Willed it into being?** "

Your stare turns quizzical. " **Why were you thinking about that?** "

" **Because I can!** " he snaps. " **Shut up!** "

You oblige peacefully, and glance back down at the landmark you, apparently, created. Was it really that easy? Do you really have that much power..?

**.̴.͜.I ̧STAN̶D ͜C͡O͜R͘RECTED, ̛IT SEE̴M͜S. ͏PER̡H͟AP̢S I̷T͜ W͘IL͝L ̸B̴E ŢH̸AT ̶SI͢M̕PL̨E͟.͘**

Both your eyes look back to Gaster, who looks more thoughtful and calculating than before. After a moment, he looks back at you, seeming to have successfully hatched a plot.

**Y̴OU ŖȨC͜A̛L͏L͢,̧ Y͘ES͝, ͠TH͢AT ͠AS ̡A͏ ̷RESULŢ ͠O͠F̷ THE ̛AC̡C͜IDE͞N͡T, I̴ ͜W͞A̕S ͢SCAT̢T̶ERE͟D̶ ͠ACR̨O͜SS̡ ͞T͢I̸ME A̸N͟D SP̨AC͡E̡. BU̢T W̢HILE ͠MY ̡B̨E̷I͜NG W͝AS SH̢ATTE̕R̛ED, MY̵ CONSCIOUS͏NEŞS R҉E̶M̷AI͞NE͏D ͘HE͢R͟E̴.͜ WHERE ̨I ̷H̶AVE͢ ͟BE͢EN̕ ̴AB͝LE̸ T͠O ̸S̶EE A͠ND͠ INFLU̸E͝N҉C̵E͝ ͟TḨE͏ ͏TI͡M̴EL͟I͞N̡E͠S Y̡O͏U͡R̕ RE̕S͞ET̕S͢ CRE͠A̸T̢E̷D̕.**

You nod in understanding.

**WHE͝N͢ ̷Y͞OUR RES͏ET͟S ͜S͞T̸OPPE͘D̕, AND TI̶ME͘ ̡WA͜S ͠AĻLOW͠ED͠ TO FL͞OW҉ FORW͠ARD AGA͟IN,̢ ͠I͜ ͞W̛A͜S AB̷LE TO..͜.̷'G̡A̧T͏HER͢'͏ M͞YS̨EL̷F͞.̡ THE P͠E̡R͟SON̶Ą Y̸OU̸ N̶OW͠ ̶SEE͘ B̷EFOR̵E Y̡O͘U I̡S̡ THE ̸RESU͜LT.̧**

That, you think, was an odd way to phrase it. You stare at him, carefully, your head tilting at an angle.

**..҉.NO ̵D̡OUB̴T YOU'VE͏ SU̧R̕MISED̕ THAT M͢Y ͏EF̛FORTS ̵WERE ̨NO͟T E͢NOUGH. ̸I̛ R̴E̢MAI͜N I͟N̷CO̡M̸PL͘E̢TE. A̧ ̕BR͞O͝KEN SHE͏L͢L OF̵ ͏WH͏O I ̶ǪNCE WA̴S̶. A̸ND̷, ͘M̶O͏R̵ĘOVER, T̷RAPPE͘D H͡E̶R͟E.҉**

**BU̡T͏,̧ ̛WI̕T͝H̕ Y͢O̢UR̵ PO͢W̶E̛R͜, ͏YOU ̸M̷AY͜ ̴JU̡ST ̶HA͘V͝E TH̴E̡ MEANS̸ ̸N͠ECE̕SSAR͘Y ̡T̸O͡ C͝OMP͡LETE ̸ME.̕ ̵A̕ND͠ D͡E͘LIV̸ER̶ U̵S̡ ͞F̸ROM͡ T҉HIS ̛D҉ARKNȨSS.͝**

You give him another nod, more firmly. " **I'm all ears, Doctor. What can I do?** "

**U҉T͢ILĮZE̴ Y҉OUR C͜ON͢NE̷CT̶I̸ONS͏ T͞O YOU͡R̴ TI͞M̨E͢LINE͟S,̛** he tells you. **R҉E̷TURN T͞O YO̧U̸R̡ ̸PAS̡T̨. REFLECT͠ ON T҉H͠E ̛MOME̸N̛T̨S̕ Y̡O͝U MOST ҉F̢ȨL̶T ̧L̴I̴KE͟ S͜O͝MEO͝N̶E̸ WAS̢ W͝ATCH͜I͟N͢G ҉YOU, ̡B̴UT͠ NO O̷N͝E͡ W̸AS T͡H̢ERE.͢ ̢T͢ḨA̶T̵ F͞EE̸L̨ING.̸ I̛T W̢A͏S M҉E̴.̨ ͜O͝BSE҉RVING̡ Y͟O͢U͝.**

" **Stalker,** " Flowey mutters under your breath.

" **You're one to talk,** " you murmur back.

His half of your face shoots yours a sneer. But you're too focused on Dr. Gaster to acknowledge it. " **So you...want us to take a trip down memory lane? Literally?** "

Dr. Gaster nods.

" **And what good, exactly, will that do?** " Flowey presses, sounding skeptical.

His head tilts, the angle making his expression seem almost coy.

**H̶UM҉A̡N. ͞Y͞OU ̨A̸R͝E ̷M̵ORE̸ ̶E͏NT͜ANGL͟ED͡ IN T͜HE FA͏BR̷IC̸ OF͞ ̸SP͝A͝CET͝IME THA͢N YOU'̢V͘E B̴EEN͠ ̛LEAD ͟TO͠ ͠B͜ELIEVE.͡ EVEN͘ ͠BEFO̶RE B̕EC̕OMINĢ T͘HIS̛ A̧MALG̡AM W̛I̶TH T̷H̡E ̛YOUNG͜ P̕R̵I͘N̨CȨ, ͡YO̢U̡R HUMAN ̢S͜OU̧L HEL̸D҉ SO ̵M̡UC̡H ҉DE̸T͢E҉RM̢INATI̕ƠN͏ TH͢A͞T ̛THE ͏FA͏TE̢ O̵F ̡EV͡ERYT͏H̛IN̢G HINGES U͜PO̵N͏ ̷YOUR M̷OR҉T͢AL͞ITY.̕**

You can't stop yourself from wincing.

**IN̵ ͝EACH ̨O̶F͜ YO͢UR ͘TIMELINES,̴ ̛YOU ARE͠ ͠TH̨E FƠCAL ͠P̶OI͜NT͠. ҉N̴OT ON҉E E͟X̵IS̨ŢS̡ WH͝ERE ͝Y͢O͝U̷ D͞O͟ NO̢T͜.͢ ͡I ̴WA̧S͘ D͠R̡AWN͟ ͢TO T͞H̸A͠T̸.̨ ̢I WAS͢ DR̶AW̵N ͜T̶O Y͘O̢U̧.̨ TO͝ Y҉OU̡R͢ ḐE͏T̴E̢RM̵IN̡ATI͢O͝N. IF͟ YOU͝ WERE̢ TO͏ ҉GǪ BA̢C͜K NOW, W̨AL҉K TH̴R͡OU͠GH͡ ̡T͞H͟E̶ ͜TI̛M͟E͜LI͡NE҉S TH̴A͞T ̢R̶EMA̴IN B̷OUN͟D͞ TO͞ Y͠OUR͠ ̧SO̴UL,̴ I ̶W̡IL̸L̶ ̡B͞E D̨R̢AW͘N͠ TǪ YOU ONCE͟ MORE.̕**

**IF Y͟O̡U͟ WI̷SH ͢TO͟ SE͜E͟ M̡E R̛E͟S̛TO͜R͡E̶Ḑ,̛ REVIS̢IT THȨ ͟PAS͏T. ͟CO̸L̷LE͡CT̸ MY̢ S͏HA̴T͘TERȨḐ BEI̷N̵G͞. LI͡S̡T̛E͝N ̛FǪR̕ ҉M͝E.͜ ̕S͘E͘E͠K̵ ME ҉OUT͢. D̛O̸ SO, ͘UNT͢IL.̕.̨.̨T̢HE ̴B͝EGINN͘I͡N͠Ģ.͟ ͜A̸ND MAYB̷E̴.҉..I̧ ͏WILL ̵BE ̡MA̛D̵E͝ ͠'͡RE̶A̵L̶' ͜A̡GA͟IŅ.͜**

He says no more, to let the words sink in. As they do, you feel your face twist more and more in confusion.

_Aaaaaand the winner, for vaguest statement of the millennia, goes toooo..!_ Flowey thinks, his toneless words exaggerated and frustrated. _Whatever the hell THAT just was!_

You give him a mental note of agreement, and ask the doctor for clarification. " **Lots of 'beginnings', Doctor. Which one do you mean?** "

All he says, with a bit of a chuckle, is,

**E͠҉X̕͟AC̵T̶LY.͏̴̶**

You keep staring at him, waiting, until you finally release a defeated sigh.

_Looks like he's not going to be very helpful anymore,_ bitterly remarks Flowey. But you don't reply. You're too busy thinking about what he meant.

As you ponder, you find yourself looking back down at the transparent earth mound still beneath you. It really does strike an uncanny resemblance to where you encountered Flowey. Often, throughout different locations in the Underground, you soon realize. The cave where the barrier once was. The room behind the throne room. Right outside the exit to the Ruins. Just beyond that crumbling stone archway near the golden flower bed your resets always started at, the crumbling stone a faded gray color with monsterkind's Delta Rune engraved at the top where the arch made its-

_Whoa wait when did that get there?_

You blink (though doing so with only one eye would make that a wink), and immediately you spot what your other half pointed out. There, plain as day, the crumbling stone archway you were just envisioning stands out in the dark.

...Huh. Guess it really is that easy.

You're drawn to your newly created landmark. Just like with the earth mound, every last detail in it is exactly as you remember it. Heck, as you floated up to it you realized there's an exact distance between it and the earth mound as their counterparts in reality. It's almost scary how accurately you remember these little details...

You hover just within reach of the archway's periphery, noting how transparent the faded gray stone looks up close. You spend a while there, just staring into the darkness beyond. Just long enough that Flowey catches on to what you're thinking of.

_Heh. Clichéd, much?_

_I know, I know._

_...Still. Makes as good a starting point as any, I guess._

A small smile curves your half of your mouth. _Ready?_

After a moment, you feel one shoulder shrug. _As I'll ever be._

You nod, slightly, and take a deep breath.

Then, together with your 'soul-mate', you pass under the archway, into the dark, to fulfill your quest to pursue the echoes of the broken man.

Until the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Much. Zalgo... ;_;
> 
> if need be I'll post a non-zalgo text later


	24. Chapter 24

 

> _writer's note:[listening recommendation](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vGyBtitP1tU&t=1479s)_

 

_" **NO!! NO!!!!!** "_

_" **YOU CAN'T DO THAT!!!** "_

_" **YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO OBEY ME!!** "_

_" **STOP!!! STOP IT!!!!!** "_

_**"STOOOOPPPP!!!!!** "_

_Two figures stood on the other side of The End._

_One was human. A child. Their entire frame shuddering and an expression on their face as though they just awoke from a terrible nightmare._

_One was floral. A golden flower. Its petals in tatters and its appearance as though it was trampled, shredded, chewed up and spat out all at the same time._

_The barrier behind where the human stood warbled, distorting like the disturbed surface of water. A howling wind blew in from the outside, where a dying twilight_ _faintly shone._

_The human, their breaths raspy and wheezing, drew closer to that light._

_"...What are you doing?"_

_The human froze on the spot, not three steps around the flower taken._

_"Do you really think I've learned anything from this?" the small, sharp voice oozed out of the flower's mouth like venom, its head turned up a fraction to glare,_ _menacingly, at the human. "No."_

_The human, looking uncomfortable, took another small step around-_

_"Sparing me won't change anything." The voice grew stronger, more full of malice. "Killing me is the only way to end this."_

_Looking as though they would soon vomit, the human tried to inch past-_

_"I f   y o u   l e t   m e   l i v e . . . I ' l l   c o m e   b a c k ."_

_The flower's face was ripped, parts of it gone as though a topcoat of white paint had been chipped off, exposing an infinite blackness beneath. Through this_ _blackness, a cruel, malicious smile taunted the human._

_"I ' l l   k i l l   y o u ."_

_The human's fists, in one was clutched a worn dagger perfect for cutting plants and vines, clenched at their sides._

_"I ' l l   k i l l   e v e r y o n e ."_

_There was a crazed look in the flower's eyes. The human was shaking once more. The hand holding the dagger rose an inch._

_"I ' L L   K I L L   E V E R Y O N E   Y O U   L O V E ."_

_Everything became still._

_Then, with a noisy clatter, the knife fell from the child's hand and onto the floor._

_"...uck."_

_"Excuse me?"_

_The flower's manic expression slipped. The darkness in its voice dissipated. Its tattered face watched the human take off the heart-shaped locket around their_ _neck, and let it slip through their fingers to join the dagger on the ground._

_"Good luck."_

_The human's repeated statement was issued a touch more loudly, yet even though the flower heard it well this time, confusion still crinkled his brow._

_"...With_ what _?"_

_Arms hanging lifeless at their sides, an expressionless expression on their face, the human turned away, and walked toward the light._

_"Finding someone who loves me."_

_The flower stared after them, the barrier starting to return to its original state._

\----

" **You really believed that, huh.** "

" **Well, yeah. Pretty hard to believe otherwise when you go your whole live being told you're nothing but a useless mistake.** "

" **......So what happened? After the souls spat us out on the other side of the barrier and you returned to the surface?** "

" **That's the thing. I didn't return to the surface.** "

" **Oh?** "

" **Whenever I passed through that archway, there was this bright light, then darkness. It...I didn't feel like I was _anywhere_.** "

" **So you ended up in the void?** "

" **I...guess? But it didn't really feel the same as this place. There'd just be darkness and silence until Sans would call me on the phone, and give me an ending.** "

" **A what?** "

" **It's what I called it whenever he rang me up and told me the state of affairs in the Underground after I left. It'd happen almost immediately for me, but with the way he'd phrase it, it always sounded like a _lot_ of time had passed since I left. Then I'd wake up, back on the flower patch. After you gave me some of your 'advice'.** "

" **...Weird.** "

" **Yeah. Weird.** "

\----

_"MY HAT...?"_

_The human nodded._

_"MY HAT."_

_The human nodded again, hesitantly._

_"MY HAT! NYEH HEH HEH!"_

_With a flourish, the tall skeleton removed his hat, revealing a carefully wrapped box underneath._

_"W-WELL THEN...YOU FOUND MY SECRET! I SUPPOSE I HAVE NO CHOICE! IT'S A PRESENT...A PRESENT J-JUST FOR YOU!!!"_

_The human looked surprised. After a moment, they made a motion for the skeleton to come closer. He oblidged, then the human lifted the present off his head and_ _opened it._

_"DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS IS?" the skeleton asked as the wrapping paper fell to the floor._

_The human, after peering into the box for a moment, nodded._

_"'SPAGHETTI.' THAT'S WHAT YOU'RE THINKING, ISN'T IT?"_

_As the human started nodding again, the skeleton announced, boisterously, "RIGHT! BUT OH-SO WRONG!"_

_The human gave him a curious look._

_"THIS AIN'T ANY PLAIN OL' PASTA! THIS IS AN ARTISAN'S WORK! SILKEN SPAGHETTI, FINELY AGED IN AN OAKEN CASK...THEN COOKED BY ME, MASTER CHEF PAPYRUS!"_

_Striking a proud pose, the skeleton pointed at the human's face. "HUMAN!!! IT'S TIME TO END THIS!!" he proclaimed. "THERE'S NO WAY THIS CAN GO ANY FURTHER!"_

_The human kept staring at him, a different expression rising on their face. One as though they had just accepted a challenge. They looked back into the box, pulled_ _out the plate of noodles sitting in it, tugged one out of the tangled mess, then ate it._

_Their face puckered as they slurped the pasta up. It stayed puckered and scrunched up as they swallowed it._

_The skeleton's jaw nearly dropped to the floor._

_"WHAT A PASSIONATE EXPRESSION!!!" he gushed, a rosy tint rising in his cheek bones. "YOU MUST REALLY LOVE MY COOKING! AND BY EXTENSION, ME!!! MAYBE EVEN MORE THAN_ _I DO!!!"_

_The human, a shudder going down their spine, gave the skeleton a weak grin and thumbs-up._

_The skeleton clutched his hands to his chest. "AUGH!!!"_

_He reeled as though struck in his nonexistent gut. "URRRGH!!!"_

_He dramatically threw his head back, a googly-eyed expression on his face as he cried out in defeat, having been completely bested in dating. "NOOOOOOOO!!!"_

_The sound echoed loudly off the walls of the tidy bedroom._

\----

" **How anyone's ever been able to stomach that swill is beyond me.** "

" **Don't call it 'swill'. He's gotten better after Mom took over Undyne's lessons. A lot better.** "

" **And you're one to judge fairly? Every reaction I've seen of you partaking in 'Master Chef' Papyrus' 'artisan' work has been leagues tamer than even his dumb brother's. Almost like you didn't mind it was, essentially, toxic waste on a plate. Though, heh, knowing you I bet you'd say something overly tragic like, 'anything tastes ambrosial when you've been basically starved most of your li'-oh my god that's your reason isn't it.** "

" _ **...Wwweeeeeeellllll-**_ "

" **Uugh never mind!** "

\----

_"Armor...so...hot..."_

_The loud clanking of heavy metal slowly came to a stop._

_"But I can't... Give up..."_

_The armored fish monster stumbled forward another step, then collapsed._

_The human she had been chasing, breathing heavily and sweating profusely, watched her fall unconscious. They kept staring at her, long after they caught their_ _breath, mopped some of the sweat off their brow. The gurgle of bubbling lava far below the bridge she lay across filled the air._

_So did the steady stream of flowing water._

_The cup in the human's hands shook as they carefully approached the armored lady, making some of the water within it spill out. Many times they paused, a_ _conflicted expression crossing their face several more._

_Close enough that she could've reached out and grabbed them they stopped, then poured what was left in their cup onto her exposed head._

_"...Hhrrgh..."_

_With that groan, the armored lady came to, then rose, unsteadily, back to her feet. The human had stepped back when she woke, and stayed back as she rose to full_ _height._

_They stared up at her, and she down at them. Her expression held disdain and disgust. Theirs worry and fear. The plastic cup in their hands crinkled as they_ _clutched it tighter and tighter._

_Without a word, after looking to see no one else around, the armored fish huffed, turned, and walked away._

_The cup finally evaporated in the intense heat._

\----

" **She'd always do that, right? No matter how many monsters you killed before reaching her, if you poured water on her head, she'd give up pursuit?** "

" **Yup.** "

" **And she fancies herself a hero... Hee hee hee. What kind of hero lets a murderer go free JUST because they spared her life?** "

" **...Fair question. I'll have to remember to ask her about that when we get back.** "

" **... _If_ we can get b-** "

" **Hey. None of that. Unfathomably powerful beast, remember? We'll definitely find a way to get back.** "

" **Fine, fine.** "

\----

_"I...I managed to open the lock!"_

_The whir of a mechanical door opening preceded the clicking of clawed feet scampering across the floor. "Are you two..."_

_The lab coat-wearing reptile slowed as she came closer to the human, then stopped as her eyes fell on the broken machine lying at their feet. They widened greatly behind her glasses._

_"Oh my god. Mettaton!"_

_She rushed toward the machine, then knelt down in front of it. "Mettaton, are you..."_

_The sound made as she shifted through the debris slowly became less frantic, until it stopped altogether. She was still for a moment, then shakily got back to her feet._

_"H...Hey..." A nervous sweat along her brow, the reptilian monster looked back at the human behind her, gave them a strangled smile. "D...don't worry about it... I can always...I can always build a different robot!"_

_The human said nothing, the empty gun at their side shaking discreetly in their hand._

_"...Why don't you go on ahead?" the scientist suggested, then turned back toward the completely trashed robot lying at her feet. "I...I just need a moment."_

_The human stared at the back of her head for a while longer, their expression unreadable, before pocketing their weapon and walking past the beyond-repair robot that had been blocking their way._

\----

" **Golly. Seeing that face you made; were you considering shooting her in the back for stabbing you in yours?** "

" **...Nah. I was already used t-** "

" **Blah blah blah used to people pretending to be friendly blah blah blah no one EVER wanted to be my friend blah blah blah blah BLAH. Cry. Me. A. _River_.** "

" **You shouldn't ask questions you already know the answers to, then.** "

" **Except that wasn't an answer for the question I asked. Killing her right then and there; were you seriously thinking about it? I mean, you already admitted part of you wanted all the bloodshed...** "

" **......You shouldn't ask questions you already know the answers to.** "

" **...** "

\----

_" **...Stop it.** "_

_" **Stop. It.** "_

_" **Stop it right now.** "_

_" **Stop it THIS INSTANT.** "_

_" **I. SAID. STOP IT.** "_

_"I ' m   s o   s o r r y ."_

_" **STOP IT!!!** "_

_The second child had suddenly appeared when the first fell lifeless to the ground. This one stood silently over the dead, broken body in the exact place the first had been standing before. This one's head was facing down, pointed straight at the freshly made corpse of the first. This one, while showing discreet differences, shared eerie similarities with the first, appearance-wise. This one, while exuding a physical presence, did not appear to physically be there at all. This one's body was semi-transparent; not a shadow was cast despite the light coming through the stained glass windows falling directly on the child's body._

_The king and the plant had their terrorized gazes trained upon this second child, who's head remained pointed toward the lifeless body soiling the garden with blood. The king and the plant recognized the second child; they even knew the child's name. But unspeakable dread kept their voices from even entering their mouths, so nothing but the distant song of a bird filled the silence following the first child's self-wrought demise._

_That is, until the second child spoke in a voice darker than the deepest, darkest pits of the underground._

_" **Load.** " The word was spoken like a command, one issued by an vengeful god no one, especially not whatever this command was issued to, could deny._

_But it refused._

_" **LOAD.** "_

_But it refused._

_" **L**_  
_**O** _  
_**A** _  
_**D.** "_

_But it refused._

_The king was stiller than stone, and just as unresponsive. Only the flower appeared to have the vaguest idea what was happening, what the second child was trying to do, what was refusing the command._

_"Ch..." A name formed on the flower's lips, a name long since unspoken inside those golden halls by either monster or plant, not since a terrible tragedy a long time ago. "Ch...a-"_

_The entire world seemed to lurch. First to the left. Then to the right. Then to every possible direction that existed in the physical plane._

_The two children were at the epicenter of these earth-shattering quakes. While the rest of the world lurched and spiraled into chaos, the two children did not move with the rest of the world. They remained still, like the one focal point in an otherwise blurry photograph._

_Cracks began forming around the two children. Cracks that defied all known laws of physicality, causality, probability. Reality was becoming undone. It was splitting apart at the seams._

_A malignant aura was exuded from the second child's trembling frame. Giant, gauged out holes leaking inky blackness were where the child's eyes would be. A horrid, ear-drum bursting, unholy shriek of the countless accumulated screams of defeat and rage that have ever existed burst forth from a torn, twisted smile leaking the same inky blackness as the child's giant, gauged out holes._

\----

" **...So _that's_ why I don't remember the first half of your timelines.** "

" **Looks that way. I guess they were pretty mad; mad enough to cause a reset strong enough to take even your memories away.** "

" **'Mad'? They look absolutely _pissed_.** "

" **That's a bad word.** "

" **Oh, _bite me_.** "

\----

_"Welcome to my special hell welcome to my special hell welcome to my special hell welcome to my special hell welcome to my special hell."_

_"Sn...o...wy..."_

_"Someribbitonefincourageallygribbitetsit..."_

_"C o m e   j o i n   t h e   f u n ."_

_The human stumbled their way into a large room filled with many beds._

_The toll of sheer exhaustion, physical and mental, was written clearly on their face, and in every aspect to how they currently carried themself across the room,_ _weaving through the beds as one might do to trip up someone, or something, chasing them. But nothing was following them; aside from themself, the beds, a broken wall_ _clock, a few fake plants and an empty dog food bowl, the room was completely deserted._

_They stopped at one of these beds, one on which the pale pink sheet was turned down, and plopped down on the mattress. One of their hands was clutching the fabric_ _of their shirt, their breaths coming out weak and shaky. They spent another moment, just sitting there, before lying down and curling up on the mattress, hand still_ _clutching their shirt as though trying to keep their heart from escaping out of their rib cage._

_Eventually, they looked as though they were starting to calm down. Their knuckles were no longer white with strain, air entered and left their lungs more_ _naturally, the lines of tension on their face started to relax-_

_The human shot up into a sitting position and whipped their head around, looking behind them. They kept that pose, like an animal on high alert, for a while_ _before, hesitantly, lying back down, making themself comfortable on the long unused-_

_They shot up again, their movements more frantic and frightened than before. Several moments more passed before, on extremely high alert, they lowered themself_ _back down, laying their head against the white, fluffy pillow, a look on their face as though trying to convince themself that they were just imagining things. That_ _they had nothing to worry about._

_Then the tall, thin, white figure materialized at their bedside once more._

_The figure had no face nor limbs; it looked like a giant spoon made of un-hardened grey-white clay. It loomed over the human, its 'head' inclined as though it was_ _looking down at them._

_From within its thin body, a smaller spoon - like an arm and hand - emerged, and reached for the human._

_With their back to the figure, the human did not see the figure reaching for them. There could be little doubt, however, that they did sense the encroaching hand,_ _based on how badly they had begun to tremble, and how utterly frightened their expression became. Like they wanted nothing more than to hide or run or at the very_ _least swat the unknown being's hand away or move at all._

_But they didn't. As the hand inched closer and closer, the human did not get up. They only continued to lie there, shaking so much the mattress' springs creaked_ _with their trembling._

_The hand stopped just short of the human's arm. A look of hollow acceptance washed over the child's face. They closed their eyes._

_The hand hovering over them dropped toward the foot of the bed. The edge of the sheet was clasped, then pulled, until it completely covered the human all the way_ _past their face. Only the crown of their head of brown hair was left exposed, which the hand then gently patted._

_The figure vanished just as it had appeared: without a sound, and without a trace._

_The lump beneath the sheets became still._

\----

" **Heh. Maybe _that's_ the real reason you're such a bleeding heart for Gaster's situation.** "

" **...Maybe. But, y'know, in and of itself, that moment was a big turning point for me.** "

" **Really. Getting tucked into bed did that for you.** "

" **It was more than getting tucked into bed. My whole 'True Lab' experience was...pretty jarring. Every moment down there, my heart felt like it was going to explode I was so scared. And that fear really drained me, on top of everything else I went through before reaching that point.** "

" **Hence the desire for a cat-nap.** "

" **Uh-huh. And when that figure appeared, when I realized that all they were going to do was tuck me in...that's when it really clicked.** "

" **...'Clicked'?** "

" **Throughout that timeline, and a few more before it, I had been trying to be more understanding and sympathetic toward others. And it was in this moment, this one unguarded and vulnerable moment, that it really clicked. That, maybe...not everyone was out to screw me over.** "

" **...'Maybe', huh?** "

" **Yeah. Maybe...** "

\----

_"Ha ha..."_

_A small, sad smile appeared on the tall monster's face._

_"Pathetic, is it not?" she pondered, looking through the person standing before her. "I cannot save even a single child."_

_The human stared up at her, shivering slightly._

_"...No, I understand," she relented. "You would just be unhappy trapped down here. The Ruins are very small once you get used to them. It would not be right for you to grow up in a place like this."_

_She took a deep, steadying breath, straightened herself. "My expectations...my loneliness...my fear... For you, my child...I wi-"_

_Within scarcely a blink's second, the human lunged forward, the toy knife in their hand stabbing into and ripping through the monster's body._

_A strangled gasp rang out, its origin still standing despite the mortal wound carved across her torso. She could not move, she could not breathe. She could only continue to stare, in horrified shock, down at the small human child standing before her as her body started fading away._

_"You...at my most vulnerable moment..."_

_The arm holding the toy rested at the human's side._

_"To think I was worried you wouldn't fit out in there..." Though she was struggling to remain on her feet, the monster let out a loud, somewhat crazed laugh, accompanied by an equally half-crazed grin. "Eheheheh!!! You really are no different than them!"_

_The human would not look her in the eye._

_Her legs finally giving out, the monster collapsed to her knees, and let out one final chuckle. "H a . . . h a . . . "_

_Soon, she was no more than a pile of shimmering gray powder scattered across the ground. The gray light of her soul shone upon the human as it quivered in the air above them, ready to fall apart, or for someone to reach out and claim it._

_Their head down, their arms stiff at their sides, the human walked - their movements almost mechanical - around the mound of dust, and through the door on the other side._

\----

" **I wonder who she was talking about. Who 'they' were.** "

" **You can always just ask her. If you wanna break her heart, that is.** "

" **Guess I could.** "

" **...But...yeah. Prime example of being convinced everyone - even someone like her - was out to get you. Right?** "

" **...** "

\----

_"fast shortcut, huh?"_

_The human blinked rapidly, looking surprised._

_The short skeleton with them turned, walked into the interior of the tavern proper. "hey, everyone," he casually greeted the crowd._

_"Hey, Sans," a cloaked dog replied._

_"(Hi, Sans,)" echoed the one beside him._

_"Greetings, Sans," said a plant-like monster with a large mouth._

_"Hiya, Sansy~" slurred a drunken rabbit holed up in a booth._

_"Hey, Sans," remarked a fish with a three-o'clock shadow, "weren't you just here for breakfast a few minutes ago?"_

_"nah," the skeleton dismissed, "i haven't had breakfast in at least half an hour. you must be thinking of brunch."_

_A few scattered chuckles filled the room. The skeleton eased himself into a bar stool, then turned to his lunch companion. "here, get co-"_

_He stopped, realizing he'd been talking to air. A moment later, he heard a door swing shut._

_"What's with your friend, Sans?" inquired the horse leaning against the jukebox. "They sure booked it outta here in a hurry."_

_The skeleton stared at the door that had just closed, his expression unchanged. "...beats me."_

_"I think I saw them poke their head in, earlier," recalled the bird sitting beside the fish. "But that's all they really did. 'Were gone in a flash after that."_

_"They made such a *_ hic _* funny face, too," added the rabbit. "Like they suddenly go sick or soooooomething~"_

_The skeleton kept staring at the door._

_"...still." With a shrug, he leaned back and propped his elbows on the back of the counter behind him. "very rude of them to stand me up on our first date."_

_"A date with a kid?" laugh-barked the dog smoking a dog treat at the poker table. "You really don't have any standards, do ya, Sans?"_

_The skeleton chuckled. "sure don't. those are for my brother."_

_A few more scattered laughs rang out. The owner of the bar continued to silently polish a glass, the eye-wear perched within his head of flames pointed toward the window by the front door. The frosted glass made it hard to properly see the goings-on outside, but it could be judged that, just outside the window, someone small - small as a child - was hunching over, their hand covering their mouth._

\----

" **...I never liked the smell of that place, either. Too...wet dog.** "

" **...** "

\----

_"'However...There is a prophecy.'"_

_Soft yellow lights, flickering in the air like lightning bugs, danced among the fields of blue flowers. They illuminated the stone plaque - worn down with years_ _worth of water damage - upon the cavern wall the human stood before._

_"'The Angel...'" the human whispered under their breath, their fingertip tracing along the ancient text they, somehow, were able to translate. "'The One Who Has_ _Seen The Surface... They will return. And the underground will go empty.'"_

_The human continued to stare, studiously, at the plaque a moment longer before turning to their right, then coming to a sudden halt._

_The section of the path they currently stood on was covered in water that reached up to their knees. Every step they took made a sloshing noise as the water was_ _stirred up, the mud beneath their feet disturbed._

_The step they took, and the 'slosh' that had accompanied it, were not syncronized._

_The human's head whipped around, as though they had caught something moving in the corner of their eye. Curiosity wrinkling their brow, they trudged through the_ _water once more, back down the path they just walked._

_The flowers lining this water-logged path repeated a passing conversation about wishes. The human almost made it back to the start of this conversation before they_ _froze before the penultimate flower._

_Which was not repeating anything about wishes at all._

_"_ Where oh where could that child be...? _" the flower, in a woman's voice, asked. "_ I've been looking all over for them... _"_

_Immediately, the human had perked up upon hearing the voice. As though they had been yearning to hear it as one would yearn for water in the desert-_

_"_ H e e   h e e   h e e .   T H A T ' S   n o t   t r u e . _"_

_The woman's voice was gone. What replaced it was cruel, mocking laughter that immediately made the human cringe._

_"_ S h e ' l l   f i n d   a n o t h e r   k i d ,   a n d   i n s t a n t l y   f o r g e t   a b o u t   y o u . _"_

_The human became very still._

_"_ Y o u ' l l   N E V E R   s e e   h e r   a g a i n . _"_

_The yellow lights continued to dance among the flowers, which continued to endlessly repeat their whispers._

\----

" **...** "

" **...** "

\----

_"...Ah... So that is how it is."_

_The air thrummed with the power of the barrier keeping monsters trapped underground. The king of all monsters had collapsed to one knee, one hand holding the wound c_ _arved into his chest by the dagger wielded by the child standing before him._

_"...I remember the day after my son died," he relented, his expression worn and weary. "The entire underground was devoid of hope. The future had once again been_ _taken from us by the humans. In a fit of anger, I declared war. I said that I would destroy any human that came here. I would use their souls to become godlike...and_ _free us from this terrible prison. Then, I would destroy humanity...and let monsters rule the surface in peace. Soon, the people's hopes returned."_

_The king's shoulders sagged._

_"My wife, however, became disgusted with my actions. She left this place, never to be seen again."_

_His expression became more stormy, more guilty._

_"Truthfully...I do not want power. I do not want to hurt anyone. I just wanted everyone to have hope..."_

_His ragged breaths grew more hoarse._

_"But...I cannot take this any longer. I just want to see my wife. I just want to see my child. Please...young one... This war has gone on long enough. You have the_ _power... Take my soul, and leave this cursed place."_

_A war of their own seemed to have broken out across the human's face. Parts of their clothes were singed, patches of their skin burned. Their breaths came out near_ _as ragged and hoarse as the king's. They were not looking anywhere at him at all._

_Their shoulders shaking, whimpers sneaking into their breaths, the human raised the dagger in their hand, and finally met the king's gaze with eyes full of tears._

_"I'm so sorry."_

_All the king did in return was give them a bittersweet smile. Don't be._

_The sound of scattering dust joined the barrier's ethereal thrum._

\----

" **...I figured it out.** "

" **...What?** "

" **Monsters needed my soul - the seventh and final one - to destroy the barrier. But whenever they attacked me, they'd attack my soul directly, and when they killed me, it'd instantly shatter. It made me wonder, why would they risk destroying my soul when they so desperately needed it? And if the other humans were attacked and killed the same way, why did _their_ souls stay in one piece?** "

" **And...now you know the answer to that?** "

" **I think so. I think, probably, it was because of Chara.** "

" **Chara..?** "

" **They needed my soul, too. To make it their own. So, I think, they deliberately destroyed it whenever I died to make it become completely unusable for anyone else. A sorta, 'if I can't have it, no one can' kinda deal.** "

" **That......makes perfect sense, actually.** "

" **Oh?** "

" **When they were alive, when we were...they were always a devout upholder of the 'finder's keepers, loser's weepers' law. No matter what it was we came across.** "

" **Sounds like I was the ultimate find for them, then. 'Fresh soul, up for grabs! Owner has no will to live! Do whatever the heck you want with them! Come and get it while it's hot!'** "

" **...That's not funny...** "

" **......Eh. Wrong crowd.** "

\----

_"I SEE YOU ARE APPROACHING. ARE YOU OFFERING A HUG OF ACCEPTANCE? WOWIE!! MY LESSONS ARE ALREADY WORKING!! I, PAPYRUS, WELCOME YOU WITH OPEN ARMS!"_

_The tall, skeletal figure did indeed open his arms in welcome. The small human before him was mere feet away, in perfect position to either accept the embrace, or catch the skeleton off-guard. The trembling of their hand grew more powerful, spreading like a disease throughout their entire body. Thick fog still made it impossible to read either figures' expressions, but it could be judged, from the smaller's shaking and the way their breaths hissed, that their's was deeply conflicted._

_Then a loud shout, like one would release to let out pent-up anger, erupted from their mouth._

_And their arm, the one holding the toy knife, swung mightily._

_There was an odd whistling as the plastic cut through the air. The fog parted as the whistling stopped, abruptly, with a firm 'CLINK'. With the mist cleared, the two figures could see each other plainly, reach each other's expressions. One: surprised. The other: placid._

_Both: unharmed._

_"WOWIE!!" gushed the skeleton, a broad, proud smile spreading across his face as he bent down and wrapped his arms around the human. "YOU DID IT!!! YOU DIDN'T DO A VIOLENCE!!!"_

_The human did not return the embrace, nor were they looking at him. Rather, they were staring at the giant block of ice floating down the nearby river, in which the weapon they had thrown away was securely planted._

_"TO BE HONEST," the skeleton confessed, "I WAS A LITTLE AFRAID...BUT YOU'RE ALREADY BECOMING A GREAT PERSON! I'M SO PROUD I COULD CRY!!!"_

_The human remained as still as a statue, and just as silent._

_"...WAIT, WASN'T I SUPPOSED TO CAPTURE YOU...?" The skeleton looked reflective for a moment, then shook his head and stood, releasing his hug. "WELL, FORGET IT! I JUST WANT YOU TO BE THE BEST PERSON YOU CAN BE. SO LET'S LET BYBONES BE BYBONES."_

_The human watched, quietly, as the ice block floated completely out of sight._

_"I'LL EVEN TELL YOU HOW TO LEAVE THE UNDERGROUND!" The skeleton turned, and pointed further down the path he had been blocking. "JUST KEEP GOING EAST! EVENTUALLY YOU'LL REACH THE KING'S CASTLE. THEN YOU CAN LEAVE! OH, I ALMOST FORGOT TO TELL YOU...TO REACH THE EXIT, YOU WILL-HEY! THESE ARE VERY IMPORTANT THINGS I AM TELLING YOU! COME BACK PLEASE!!"_

_But the human had already walked past him, going the very same direction he had pointed out to them._

_"...WELL! SINCE YOU ARE SO EAGER TO PRESS ON! I, PAPYRUS, WISH YOU THE BEST OF LUCK, HUMAN! HOWEVER! IF YOU EVER WISH TO 'HANG OUT'! I'LL BE AT HOME BEING A COOL FRIEND!!! NYEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH!!!"_

_The sound of his laughter reached even into the cool, damp cave the human trekked through, hands clenched tightly into fists at their sides and a look about them like they were-_

_"hey."_

_The human froze, suddenly, in front of a wooden shack that had a blanket of snow covering its roof._

_"i really appreciate what you did back there," the short skeleton manning this shack remarked, casually, and just as casually gave the human a wink. "thanks."_

_The human, very stiffly, marched further eastward._

\----

" **Speaking of Chara, I bet they were the type to hold a grudge, too. Were they?** "

" **...Hee hee hee. You really need me to answer that? They _loathed_ humanity, remember?** "

" **Yeah, I remember.** "

" **Then why are _you_ the one now asking questions you already know the answers to?** "

" **I just want your take on that look I gave Sans right then. It always felt a little...ambiguous to me.** "

" **Hmm.... If I had to hazard a guess, that little side-eye you gave ol' Smiley was Chara's way of saying, 'Don't get used to it.'** "

" **I see...** "

" **...Yeah. That sounds _exactly_ like something they'd do...** "

\----

_"Frisk, thank you for listening to me."_

_Two children stood before a bed of golden flowers. One human, one monster._

_"You should really go be with your friends now, okay?" the monster urged, smiling sadly. "Oh, and, please... In the future, if you, uh, see me...don't think of it as me, okay? I just want you to remember me like this. Someone that was your friend for a little while."_

_The human did not respond, verbally or otherwise._

_"Oh, and Frisk..." The monster turned toward them, the look in his eyes purposeful. "Be careful in the outside world, okay? Despite what everyone thinks, it's not as nice as it is here. There are a lot of Floweys out there, and not everything can be resolved by just being nice."_

_The human made a small noise, as though agreeing with the monster._

_"Frisk..." The monster reached out, and gently took the human's hand in his own. "Don't kill, and don't be killed, alright? That's the best you can strive for."_

_The human, holding his gaze, nodded. The monster nodded back then, his shoulders sinking, released the human's hand, and turned away. "Well, see you."_

_He had his back to the human, his front facing the flower bed. The human just continued to stand there, their expression becoming more and more grief-filled._

_"Frisk..." The monster's shoulders sank further. He would not look at the human anymore. "Don't you have anything better to do?"_

_The question hung in the air like the stench of death. Grief, regret, and determination mixing together on the human's face, they reached forward and wrapped their arms around the monster's shoulders in a gentle embrace._

_"I'm so sorry, Asriel." Their closed eyes squeezed out tiny traces of tears. "If only I could find a way to help you stay this way..."_

_Everything became still and quiet. Then the monster let out a bittersweet chuckle and patted the human's arm._

_"Wouldn't that be something..."_

_The human gave him one last squeeze before, slowly, releasing him, turning, and walking away._

_The pool of golden sunlight captured in the form of flowers seemed to grow dimmer._

\----

" **...I didn't tell him about you.** "

" **...** "

" **See, there? Just within the archway to the next room? Looks like that's where he was hiding, listening to our conversation.** "

" **...** "

" **...He told me he didn't hear all of it. Just, like, the last half-** "

" **Let's just get to the next one.** "

" **...** "

\----

_"well, here we are."_

_The restaurant was dimly lit, so as to make the mood lighting created by the candles centered on each table that much more prominent. At opposite ends of one of these tables sat a skeleton and a human, the small flame of the candle between them shedding odd highlights on their faces, making them look almost hollow._

_"so," remarked the skeleton as he propped both his elbows propped on the tablecloth. "your journey's almost over, huh? you must really wanna go home."_

_His dining companion did not respond, their eyes everywhere except on him._

_"hey. i know the feeling, buddo." He lifted one arm up, to nestle his chin in his palm. "though...maybe sometimes it's better to take what's given to you."_

_The human still would not look at him._

_"down here you've already got food, drink, friends..." His stare became more pointed, more probing. "is what you have to do...really worth it?"_

_Instead of answering, or even meeting his gaze, the human took to idly messing with the silverware laying before them._

_Something in the skeleton's expression hinted that he was expecting this response. He looked off to the side and dismissively waved a hand. "...ah, forget it. i'm rootin' for ya, kid."_

_Music was playing from somewhere. A slow piano melody that further heightened the atmosphere of the restaurant._

_"hey." The skeleton lifted his head up and moved his arms off the table. "let me tell you a story."_

_The human's fidgeting with a fork paused for a second._

_"so i'm a sentry in snowdin forest, right? i sit out there and watch for humans. it's kind of boring. fortunately, deep in the forest, there's this_ huge _locked door. and it's perfect for practicing knock knock jokes."_

_There was something about the skeleton's words that seemed unnatural. Like an old recording of canned laughter, like lines repeated for a play. It made the story he was telling sound somewhat in-genuine, almost rushed. Like he just wanted to get it over with already._

_Nevertheless, he spun his tale at an even, measured pace. "so one day, i'm knocking 'em out, like usual. i knock on the door and say, 'knock knock'. and suddenly, from the other side, i hear a woman's voice. 'who is there?' so, naturally, i respond: 'dishes'. 'dishes who?' 'dishes a very bad joke.' then she just howls with laughter. like it's the best joke she's heard in a hundred years."_

_The human, on the contrary, didn't look exactly 'bored', but uninterested nonetheless._

_"so i keep 'em coming, and she keeps laughing. she's the best audience i've ever had. then, after a dozen of 'em,_ she _knocks and says 'knock knock!' i say 'who's there?' 'old lady!' 'old lady who?' 'oh! i did not know you could yodel!'"_

_The skeleton chuckled a bit to himself. "wow."_

_The human did not even crack a smile._

_"needless to say, this woman was extremely good. we kept telling each other jokes for hours. eventually, i had to leave. papyrus gets kind of cranky without his bedtime story. but she told me to come by again, and so i did. then i did again. and again. it's a thing now. telling bad jokes through the door. it rules."_

_The skeleton paused to catch his breath, his gaze seeming to go off somewhere farther than the confines of the room._

_"...one day, though, i noticed she wasn't laughing very much. i asked her what was up. then she told me something strange. 'if a human ever comes through this door...could you please, please promise something? watch over them, and protect them, will you not?'"_

_The skeleton paused again, briefly, then shrugged. "now, i hate making promises. and this woman, i don't even know her name. but...someone who sincerely likes bad jokes has an integrity you can't say 'no' to."_

_The piano had stopped playing. Distant conversations passed between the other restaurant patrons replaced it. The human had stopped fiddling with the cutlery, had their hands in their lap and a look on their face like they were preparing themself for something._

_"do you get what i'm saying?" probed the skeleton, his tone as measured and even as before yet something in it like he had finally reached his point. "that promise i made to her...you know what would have happened if she hadn't said anything? ...buddy."_

_His skull was turned away. His eye sockets were closed. When they opened back up, they were dark and hollow, and not just because of the mood lighting._

_"...You'd be dead where you stand."_

_His voice came out deep and hollow. It seemed to make the rest of the world go silent, like a universal 'mute' button had been pressed. It did not stay that way for long, and the skeleton closed his sockets and took a deep breath, as though preparing to deliver his next scripted line-_

_"Then you should've stopped keeping promises when you had the chance."_

_His eyes snapped wide open, his pupils tiny and his smile faltering. Seemed as though someone had given the 'okay' for some 'ad-libbing' during this scene, and forgot to tell him about it. "k...ki-?"_

_A loud scrape interrupted him. And by the time he turned to face forward, the chair across from him was vacant. "kid_ wait _i was only...kidding..."_

_But the human was already halfway across the room, heading straight toward the exit._

_They passed more tables along the way. The restaurant patrons seated at these tables watched them walk away, then turned their heads back to stare in the direction they came from. Whatever expression the human had made the stares that the other patrons gave the skeleton judgmental._

_"......what can i say?"_

_His grin back in place, he shrugged broadly and winked. "guess some people don't know how to take a joke."_

_One by one, heads turned away. Practically every stare was still full of skepticism and suspicion._

_"...yeah..." The skeleton stuffed his hands in his pockets and leaned back in his chair, staring thoughtfully at nothing in particular. "lighten up, bucko. i'm just joking with you..."_

_Trails of melted wax trickled down the candle, the light it shed making his expression look empty._

\----

" **Wow. I mean _WOW_. What a thing to say to someone who _threw themself of a cliff_.** "

" **He didn't know. I didn't exactly go parading around the whole Underground announcing it in big, flashing neon letters.** "

" **...Alright. I'll rephrase: what a thing to say to someone _period_. I mean, be honest, did you ever _once_ believe, for even a second, that he really was just 'joking around' with you?** "

" **......** "

" **Hmph. Thought not.** "

\----

_"Hee hee hee...I hope you like your choice. After all, it's not as if you can go back and change fate. In this world, it's kill or be killed. That old hag thought she could break the rules. She tried so hard to save you humans. But when it came down to it...Hee hee...SHE COULDN'T EVEN SAVE HERSELF. WHAT AN IDIOT!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"_

_The human blinked quickly as they stepped out of the doorway and onto the snow._

_They jumped as the door behind them sealed itself shut with a mighty groan. They constantly looked over their shoulder as they trudged through the snowy path. They looked so concerned about their surroundings than their own feet that they did not even notice the branch lying along the path until they tripped over it, falling flat on their face into the ankle-deep snow._

_Gasping and shivering, they scrambled back to their feet, hastily brushing as much of the chilly powder off their clothes and face as they could before, shakily, pressing on. They barely got a few yards away before stopping and snapping their head around._

_The branch they had tripped on was now broken._

_The human slid backwards a step, then turned and picked up the pace. Another few yards were barely gained when they stopped and did another double-take. As though they saw the shadow of an unknown person out of the corner of their eye._

_Shaking, they practically started running down the path. They slowed only when they spotted an odd structure in the distance, and stopped completely once they arrived at it._

_The structure turned out to be a gate of some sort, with its bars set so wide anyone could cross the bridge it sanctioned off. The human had stopped at the foot of this bridge, which spanned a gap that was short in distance, but appeared to be so deep the bottom could not be seen._

_The human had stopped shaking. Their face was pointed downward, their expression deeply thoughtful._

_They did not seem to notice the crunch, crunch, crunch of approaching footsteps until their owner was right behind them, close enough to be breathing down their neck._

_"Human."_

_The word rang out, emptily, like the deep toll of a heavy bell in the thick, snowy woods._

\----

" **...Really? _Really_?** "

" **What?** "

" **THAT didn't clue him in?! That garbage can _prides_ himself on being able to pick up on the tiniest changes in demeanor! And he really couldn't see that you were considering jumping again right then and there!?** "

" **...I think he did, actually. He was always super eager to get me across that bridge and direct me away fro-** "

" **Can you NOT give him such a universal free pass for all the crappy things he's done?! Your ' _big brother_ ' is a steaming pile of ROTTEN GARBAGE and you know it! _Why_ do you keep insisting on defending him??** "

" **............** "

" **Well???** "

" **...I guess...'cause I relate to him too much.** "

" **......** "

\----

_"Hey! Stop!!!"_

_The four white, amorphous figures stopped their encroachment upon the human. Each turned to where the voice came from, the clicking of frantic claws against the dull green tiles echoing into the room._

_"I got you guys some food, okay!?" announced the lab coat-wearing reptile. In response, each figure scurried off through the door she entered from, eager smiles (or attempts at ones) on their faces._

_As soon as they were gone, the scientist let out a sigh and mopped her brow with her sleeve. "Sorry about that," she apologized to the human still standing against the wall. "They get kind of sassy when they don't get fed on time."_

_The human stared at her, seeming to relax in her presence by not clinging to the wall anymore._

_"Um!! Anyway!" She looked back at them, wringing her hands in front of her nervously. "The power went out, and I've been trying to turn it back on! But it seems like you were one step ahead of me."_

_The power generator behind the human hummed steadily._

_"This was probably just a big inconvenience for you..." the scientist muttered, dejectedly. "B-But I appreciate that you came here to back me up! As I said, I was afraid I might...not come back..."_

_The human took a small step toward her, looking around her to where the amorphous figures had hurried off to._

_Noticing, the scientist shook her hands in a dismissive gesture. "But that's not because of these guys or anything! I was just worried I would be too afraid...to tell the truth..."_

_She looked away from the human, her voice dropping into something smaller, grimmer, sadder. "That I might run away, or do something...cowardly."_

_The human's expression softened, as though they had just come to a realization._

_"...Uh...I...I suppose I owe you an explanation."_

_Pulling herself together somewhat, she put on a sad smile and began, "As you probably know, Asgore asked me to study the nature of souls. During my research, I isolated a power I called 'determination'. I injected it into dying monsters so their souls would last after death. But the experiment failed. You see, unlike humans', monsters' bodies don't have enough...physical matter to take those concentrations of 'determination'. Their bodies started to melt, and lost what physicality they had. Pretty soon, all of the test subjects had melted together into...those."_

_She made a vague gesture to behind her, her smile becoming sadder. "Seeing them like this, I knew...I couldn't tell their families about it. I couldn't tell anyone about it. No matter how much everyone was asking me. And I was too afraid to do any more work, knowing...everything I'd done so far had been such a horrific failu-"_

_The human had taken several more steps in her direction until they were close enough to reach out, and gently take her hand in theirs. Their gazes met, hers a little surprised, theirs full of compassion and understanding._

_"...but now." The scientist sniffled, and tried to make her smile more genuine as she held the human's hand in both of hers. "Now, I've changed my mind about all this. I'm going to tell everyone what I've done."_

_She looked down at her hands, which were subtly shaking._

_"...It's going to be hard. Being honest...believing in myself... I'm sure there will be times where I'll struggle. I'm sure there will be times when I screw up again. But knowing, deep down, that I have friends to fall back on...I know it'll be a lot easier to stand on my own."_

_She squeezed the human's hand, fear in her eyes but gratitude in her smile. "Thank you."_

_A small, patient smile appeared on the human's face. The scientist released their hand, then turned to find the victims of her failed experiments returning._

_"Come on, guys." She stood a little straighter, held her head a little higher. "It's time for everyone to go home."_

_She led the amalgamates out of the room. The human was left alone, the power generator behind them humming strongly._

\----

" **......Heh. Guess that's why you let _her_ off the hook so easily, too.** "

" **...** "

\----

_"Hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm hmm-hmm, hmm..."_

_Though it took many attempts, the eight-note melody the human hummed was correctly replayed on the piano. As soon as the last note resounded, a different kind of sound - almost like a deep bark - made the human flinch in surprise. They walked away from the piano, then looked north to see a hole in the wall that had not been there before. Curiously, they approached this hole, then entered the hidden room beyond._

_Other than an altar of some sort, plus an unreadable plaque on the wall behind it, the was completely empty. Upon this dais, a shiny red orb was enshrined. As though drawn to it, the human approached the altar, their hand reaching out to claim their reward-_

zzzzborkzzzz

_The human stiffened. Something it their pocket was squirming and...snoring? Confusion wrinkling their brow, they peered into their pocket's depths. "What the..?"_

_A little white dog jumped out. Human and canine spent a moment looking at each other before the dog pounced onto the dais and absorbed the shiny red orb._

_"H-Hey!"_

_Quicker than the human could catch it, the dog jumped and bounded away, breaking the laws of reality by walking on air and phasing through a wall, yapping happily all the way._

_The human appeared too stunned by the absurdity of this turn of events to do anything but stare at where the dog had gone, let alone notice the glowing crystals it had secreted and left in their pocket._

\----

" **Did you ever figure out what that legendary artifact is supposed to do?** "

" **Uh-uh.** "

" **What about that one door in Snowdin? Ever find out what's in there?** "

" **Nope. Though I swear I could always hear barking coming from the other side of it.** "

" *** _sigh_ * Eternally bamboozled by a dog. Guess some things are just meant to remain an enigma.**"

" **...Heh. You sure know a lot of fancy words. Sounds like _someone's_ been expanding their vocabulary.** "

" **Yup! Mom's been teaching me a new word every week. And challenging me to find a way to apply it before the next. It's really fun! And educational!** "

" **...Just like she used to with...** "

" **Hmm?** "

" **A-Anyway! That dog sure is annoying, huh!** "

" **...Sure is...** "

\----

_"OH MY GOD!!!"_

_A look of pure panic cracked the captain's usual fierce demeanor. She rounded on the human, a strangled smile on her face._

_"She was kidding, right!?" she demanded. "Those cartoons...those comics...Those are still REAL, right!?"_

_The human scooted back a step, looking uncomfortable. "Um-"_

_Before they could take another step, the captain desperately grabbed their shoulders, her smile becoming more crazed._

_"ANIME'S REAL, RIGHT?!?!"_

_Now, the human looked to be in a state of panic. Their gaze was going everywhere, and they were stumbling over their words. "I- u-um- I d-don't-!"_

_The captain's expression grew more desperate. The human's more unsure. Raising their hands in an 'I don't know' gesture, they answered, very hesitantly and unconvincingly, "...No?"_

_Though their tone did not make their answer sound very convincing, the captain's reaction indicated that she was._

_"No...NO!!!!" She released the human's shoulders, threw her arms angrily into the air. "I CAN FEEL MY HEART BREAKING INTO PIECES!!!"_

_A silent moment passed before the captain lowered her arms, her expression turning defeated, yet defiant._

_"...no, I can survive this..." she quietly convinced herself. "I have to be strong. For Alphys."_

_She inhaled a bracing breath, then clapped a hand on the human's shoulder. "Thank you, human, for telling me the truth. I'll try my best to live in this world... See you later!"_

_The human was left alone, standing amidst water and garbage._

\----

" **If my mind has been thoroughly changed about one thing, after everything that's happened, it is that anime is, undoubtedly, very very real. I mean, take us! I bet we look like we just stepped out of one of Alphys' shows!** "

" **More like a horror movie.** "

" **...Touché.** "

\----

_A flash of light._

_Darkness._

_Opened eyes._

_A curious, floral smell._

_Disorientation. Confusion. Head dropping into hand. A soft moan._

_Staggering footsteps. Hand meeting a wall. Dragging along rough rock._

_Letters filtering. A word forming._

_...C...h...a...r...a-_

_"Howdy!"_

_Stiffness. Alertness. Eyes darting back and forth. No one in si-_

_"Oh, down here, friend!"_

_A flinch. A twitch. A glance downwards._

_A flower._

_A flower with golden petals. A flower with a face. A flower wearing a welcoming, pearly white smile._

_"Howdy!" the flower repeats. "I'm Flowey! Flowey the flower!"_

_Staring. Dubious staring. Head trying to wrap around new development._

_"Hmm..." Flower's eyes looking up and down, studiously. "You're new to the Underground, aren'tcha? Golly, you must be so confused. Someone ought to teach you how_ _things work around here! I guess little old me will have to do. Ready? Here we go!"_

_A breathless gasp. A strange sensation; like a hand gripping the heart. Sensation quickly passing. Breathlessness still lasting._

_A red glow originating from the center of a chest._

_"See that heart?" the flower questions. "That is your soul, the very culmination of your being!"_

_Stupefied_ _blinks. Experimenting. Trying to touch the 'soul': swelling heart-gripping sensation. Trying to pass hand between 'soul' and chest: met with some strange_ _force. Moving body in different directions: 'soul' matching each movement in perfect synchronicity._

_"Your soul starts off weak," the flower details, "but can grow strong if you gain a lot of LV."_

_A new term. A look of curiosity._

_"What's LV stand for?" The flower's smile widens a fraction. "Why, LOVE, of course!"_

_Expression softening. Eyes widening. 'Love'...?_

_"You want some love, don't you?" The flower winks, sticks a small white tongue out of its mouth. "Don't worry, I'll share some with you!"_

_Five small, white, spinning objects come out of and flank the flower. "Down here," it explains, "LOVE is shared through...little white...'friendliness pellets'."_

_A barely noticeable shift in the flower's expression in the last word. Gone by the time it next speaks._

_"Are you ready? Move around! Get as many as you can!"_

_Pellets gently approaching. Curiosity overpowering caution. Moving forward, reaching out, letting the friendliness pellets come in contact with-_

_A strangled cry. Falling to knees. Pain on levels never known._

_A counter plummeting from 20 to 1._

_"Y o u   i d i o t ."_

_Hospitality gone. Replaced by acid-like cruelty. A bright, cheery smile turned into a wicked, malicious sneer._

_"I n   t h i s   w o r l d ,   i t ' s   k i l l   o r   B E   k i l l e d .   W h y   w o u l d   A N Y O N E   p a s s   u p   a n   o p p o r t u n i t y   l i_ _k e   t h i s ! ?"_

_A sound like machine-gun fire. Numerous pellets circling, like a halo of death._

_" **D i e .** "_

_Wild, dark cackling. Pellets honing in._

_No avoiding. No escaping._

_The end of a story before it even beg-_

_"Huh?"_

_-wait what?_

_Arms lowered from covering head. Seeing no pellets. Feeling no pain. Instead, a soothing, restorative sensation._

_A counter replenished to full._

_"ACK!"_

_An orb of fire suddenly appearing. Colliding with the flower. Knocking it back, banishing it from sight._

_Confusion exponentially expanding._

_"What a terrible creature, torturing such a poor, innocent youth..."_

_A new voice. Feminine sounding. Approaching footsteps._

_A tall, horned figure appearing._

_Drawing back. A small whimper of fear escaping._

_The figure looking down, smiling kindly._

_"Ah, do not be afraid, my child," the figure patiently cajoles. "I am Toriel, caretaker of the Ruins. I pass through this place every day to see if anyone has_ _fallen down."_

_A white, furry hand extending. A humble offering to help stand back up._

_Hesitantly, shakily, accepting the offer._

_"You are the first human to come here in a long time," she reveals. "Come! I will guide you through the catacombs."_

_Returned to feet. A hand released._

_"This way," the woman says before turning, and walking away._

_Left alone. Situation considering. Thoughts swirling._

_Something rising. A long-forgotten piece of advice, given by someone who's identity remains obscured._

If you make a mistake, just erase it and try again.

_A mistake...erase it..._

_Erase...the mistake..._

_And try again._

_Erase...and try again._

_Erase and try again..._

_..._

_......_

_........._

_............_

...Maybe, _you start to believe as you go after your new acquaintance,_ this is...a second chance. Maybe...things will be different this time around.

_And as you pass through a crumbling purple archway, the top of which is crested with the same strange symbol that was on this 'Toriel's' dress, a silent thought_ _lingers in the back of your mind, sticking there like a thorn you can't dig out:_

W e ' l l   s e e   a b o u t   t h a t .

\----

" **Riddle me this: you suddenly start hearing a voice in your head, one that told you to kill everyone in your path, and you never thought it out of the ordinary. Why is that?** "

" **You'll call me an idiot for this-** "

" **I call you an idiot for anything. Idiot.** "

" **-... _but_ , thing is, I didn't start hearing their voice until after that moment. When my soul first manifested outside of my body. So I thought...for the longest time...that theirs was the voice of my soul itself. Pretty idiotic of me, right?**"

" **...Actually...no. It isn't.** "

" **Ohh?** "

" **If anything it's...it was really clever, on Chara's part. Making you think it was your own soul that had those urges...heh. Still as tricky as ever, weren't you, Chara?** "

" **......** "

\----

Memory lane has not been as linear as you thought it'd be.

Save for a few rare occasions, it hasn't been linear at all, temporally speaking. One moment, you're reflecting on something that happened during one of the last half of your timelines. The next, you're 'walking into' your very first. And there hasn't been anything really connecting one moment to the next, except for when something you or Flowey said, upon your brief moments of reflection on a few select memories, reminded you of another.

You've just been doing what Dr. Gaster instructed you to do: think most about the moments when it most felt like you were being watched, but no one was there. And it was in these moments, as you looked back on and 'walked' through them, that you found (thanks to your heightened senses) the doctor's missing pieces.

Most of them were just lingering presences; scarcely even a ghost of his former self. ( _Talk about needing to pull yourself together,_ you had commented, and Flowey had predictably groaned at.) The most 'present' presence you found had been of the entity you referred to as the 'spoon ghost'; the strange figure that had tucked you in when you laid down to rest during your time in the True Lab.

You fell into a routine whilst traveling through your memories: enter one, find the doctor's remnant, proceed to the next. Occasionally you'd exchange words with your 'soulmate' on the contents of certain memories, but other than that, you've just been passing through as silently as a ghost through your memories.

It's been...interesting. Seeing moments from your past, seeing your life from an outsider's perspective. It's been as though every second of your life was recorded on video. And recorded with poor video quality, too; the colors were faded, the lines blurry. Each memory had a certain... _something_ to them that didn't make them feel real, just like with the landmarks you created back when you first entered the void. The most striking aspect in each memory, the parts that had stood out the most, were the pieces of Dr. Gaster you had set out to find.

That's made it easier to find him, certainly.

And yet......

You exit a memory, but instead of finding yourself wandering into another, the dark emptiness of the 'Absolute' welcomes you into its nothingness. You stop moving, half your face looking to the other in wonder. _Is...something wrong?_

_You tell me,_ Flowey retorts, furrowing your brow as his half stares at yours. _That was it, wasn't it? The start of your very first timeline? The 'beginning'? Don't you think that's what Gaster wanted us to reach?_

Your half turns contemplative. _...Could be._

_Then why are we still here? Why haven't we turned back and returned the pieces to Gaster already?_ As he thinks this, you feel half your face smooth out a little. _Unless...you think we're not done yet? That we missed something?_

You think nothing for a moment, then shrug in a noncommittal way. _I just...wanna be thorough._

Flowey makes no remark, at first, but gives in with an eye roll. _Fiiine. Guess there's no harm in making sure._

You flash a small half-smile, then the feeling of motion makes you go further through the darkness.

And the darkness keeps persisting, stretching ever onward toward an unseen horizon. There's no end to it, nor beginning. Only a powerful source of determination - you - has ever made anything from this darkness, has ever pulled forth moments lost in time from the null.

Yet, it has not been enough.

You close your eyes (though it's really pointless to, as soon pointed out by your 'soul mate'), concentrating, wracking your brain for the tiniest sliver of something you overlooked. Have you revisited that memory? Yes. What about that one? N-...wait, yes. You think that you got them all, yet that nagging feeling remains.

What is it? What are you forgetting?

    _"It sounds like it came from over here..."_

Both your eyes snap wide open to find yourself not in darkness, but within the faded memory of a very familiar location. For more than one reason.

_A child lays, face down, on the ground. A different one appears from behind a column, looking around curiously. The moment the second child sees the first, curiosity becomes shock, urgency._

_"Oh! You've fallen down, haven't you..."_

_The first child stirs, head of brown hair lifting off the ground and shaking it as though shaking off weariness. The second child approaches the first, cautiously._

_"Are you okay?"_

_The first child looks up, meets the gaze of the second. The first child looks dazed._

_"Here, get up..."_

_The second child offers the first a helping hand. The first takes it, hesitantly. Both children are standing, though the first's posture is not straight._

_"..."_

_After a quiet moment of the two children staring at each other, the first slowly, decisively makes a series of hand motions._

_"Chara, huh?"_

_The first looks surprised. Speechlessly so._

_"That's a nice name."_

_The second child smiles, offering not a helping hand, but an introductory one._

_"My name is-"_

" **How do you know about that?** "

The scene vanishes like a candle being blown out, stranding you in darkness once more. And leaving Flowey's tense, barbed, almost growling demand fresher than the scene you just witnessed.

" **That wasn't _your_ memory,** " he accuses, and you feel half your face pull into a small snarl. " **How do you KNOW about that??** "

Delaying your answer by offering him a moment to calm down feels like a bad idea. So you explain, carefully, " **Whenever I fell into the garbage dump, before I came to, I'd hear that memory.** "

You feel your left half relax, a little.

" **Trust me, I was just as shocked about it, too. I knew it wasn't my memory right from the get go. And it took me a while to figure out that it must have been-** "

" **Chara's.** "

His half goes blank with this revelation. Then he lets out a laugh that's attempting to sound haughty.

" **Ha ha ha ha! Of _course_ it was Chara's memory! And of course you were able to tap into it! They were with you right from the start, after all! It's OBVIOUSLY because of them! Ha ha ha!** "

Considering his reaction, you know you made a wise choice in withholding the fact that you actually _saw_ how that memory played out during a different event. One he, no doubt, would be very touchy about bringing up.

The laughter stops suddenly; seems like he realizes what he was just doing. After a throat-clearing ' _ahem_ ', Flowey makes your posture straighten. " **Anyway! That was a side-track! Let's keep going!** "

This time, it's Flowey leading the charge deeper into the black. You go along with him (because, obviously, you can't otherwise), silently.

Earlier, there'd sometimes be a small...'gap', you could say, of blackness between when you'd hop from one memory to the next. Those gaps were small, brief. Between the memory you just left and the one before it was the longest gap yet.

And the one that lasts next feels only marginally shorter.

_"Okay, Chara, are you ready? Do your creepy face!"_

_Two children in a garden. One holds a video camera. The other pauses for a moment, then gives the first an unsettling, creepy grin._

_"AHHHHH!!"_

_The child holding the camera stumbles back, startled. Then, laughter fills the air._

_"Hee hee hee! Oh! Wait! I had the lens cap on..."_

_The second child stops grinning in the unsettling manner. A smile still remained as the child did a series of decisive hand motions._

_"What!? You're not gonna do it again...?"_

_With an air of smugness, the second child's head shakes defiantly._

_"Come on, quit tricking me!"_

_The child holding the camera puts it down, then playfully shoves the second's shoulder. The second shoves back, and more laughter rings out._

_"Haha!"_

" **And...you know about this because of those tapes!** " Flowey deducts as this memory disappears similarly to the previous. " **Ha ha! Of course!** "

You make no comment, the gap of darkness you next traverse through notably shorter than the previous.

_"Howdy, Chara!"_

_One child approaches the other, who is sitting among a bed of flowers. The second child does not look up at the first._

_"Smile for the camera!"_

_The sitting child does not respond, at first, then quickly flashes the standing child a small grin._

_"Ha, this time I got YOU!"_

_The sitting child's smile falters._

_"I left the cap on...ON PURPOSE! Now you're smiling for noooo reason! Hee hee hee!"_

_Smile fading, the second child looks away, focusing back on the flowers. A moment passes before the child makes a series of hand motions._

_"What? Oh, yeah, I remember. When we tried to make butterscotch pie for Dad, right?"_

_The standing child sits next to the other, placing the camera in a lap._

_"The recipe asked for cups of butter...but we accidentally put in buttercups instead."_

_Another set of hand motions._

_"Yeah! Those flowers got him really sick. I felt so bad. We made Mom really upset."_

_The child with the camera looks ashamed, bashful._

_"I should have laughed it off, like you did..."_

_The second child's expression is unreadable._

_"Um, anyway, where are you going with this?"_

_A moment of silence, filled with a distant bird song, passes before there are more hand motions._

_"Huh? Turn off the camera...? OK."_

" **Y-Yeah. Those pesky tapes you watched.** "

" **...** "

_"I...I don't like this idea, Chara."_

_Two children standing amidst crumbling pillars. The monster child looks nervous. The human child looks indignant, making a series of hand motions amplifying that._

_"Wh..What? N-No, I'm not..."_

_The monster quickly rubs an arm across a face._

_"...big kids don't cry."_

_The human makes more hand motions._

_"Yeah, you're right."_

_Wearing a look of disappointment, the human makes more hand motions._

_"No! I'd never doubt you, Chara...never!"_

_The human cocks a brow. More hand motions._

_"Y...Yeah! We'll be strong! We'll free everyone."_

_The human looked satisfied. The monster still looked nervous, but accepting._

_"I'll go get the flowers."_

" **Th...They're...** "

" **...** "

_"...psst...Chara..."_

_Two children in a bedroom. The human lying in a bed, the monster lingering at their bedside._

_"Please...wake up..."_

_The monster looks on the verge of tears. The human is barely moving._

_"I don't like this plan anymore. I...I..."_

_The human did not stir. The monster sniffles, then shakes his head._

_"...no, I said...I said I'd never doubt you."_

_The monster stands a little straighter, his expression still uneasy but holding an underlying strain of determination._

_"Six, right? We just have to get six..."_

_A broken smile appearing on his face, the monster laid his hand atop the human's_

_"And we'll do it together, right?"_

" **...the only reason we're seeing them right now...** "

" **......** "

You have not said nor thought anything as you progressed down this stretch of 'memory lane'. Flowey's the only one that's been commenting on them, reflecting the past they showed. And he sounded _very_ thoughtful about these reflections, too; even more so than he was during the first stretch. His half of your face had slowly become more and more lax, neutral. Wistful. Almost melancholy.

Back in darkness for a spell, Flowey blinks and shakes your head vigorously. " **Th-That's enough of that! We're getting distracted! I-I don't think there are any Gaster shards THIS far back! Let's turn back and keep lo-** "

Suddenly, you both hear screams ringing out. They startle you, but completely paralyze Flowey with horror.

_"What is that thing?!"_

_"A monster! A MONSTER!!"_

_"Oh god it's killed a child!"_

_"Kill it! KILL IT!!"_

" **Wh...What is this..?** "

_I told you, Asriel._

_This world is kill or BE killed._

_We have the power._

_Kill them before they kill us._

" **Why...why am I...?** "

_N-No!_

_It-It wasn't supposed to be like this!_

_We can't kill them, Chara!_

_I won't be a MURDERER!_

" **Why am I feeling this way...?** "

The memory you next come upon is more in focus and detailed than any of the others combined. It's set in the throne room, in the dead of night. A beast, tall and horned and covered in white fur, is slumped onto its knees, several wounds that leak dust like blood carved across its body. It's gasping for air, struggling to keep the lifeless body in its arms from slipping out of its grasp. Trails of tears are streaming from the beast's eyes, making the fur on its cheeks soggy.

" _I-I'm sorry!_ " the beast wails in contrition. " _I'm so, so sorry! D-Don't hate me! Please! I didn't want it to be this way!!_ "

The beast slumps even more, everything below its knees having crumbled apart.

" _I-I messed up! I k-know I did! B-But...but..!_ "

The lifeless body starts to slip from its arms.

" _I...I d-didn't_ ask _f-for this..!_ "

The beast starts to sob.

" _Mom!! Dad!! Someone!! A-Anyone!! Please!!_ "

The beast tries to cry out, but too much of its body has come undone, so the last thing that comes out of its mouth is a small, weak, fearful, pained,

" _...h...e l p..._ "

The dead child's body falls to the ground as the beast shatters into dust.

\----

Flowey is speechless.

You suppose that's a given, considering he just watched himself die.

It doesn't stop there, though. The memory continues from where it should have logically ended, considering whose it is. It goes on to show two monsters bounding into the throne room, only to come to a complete standstill as two souls appear over the two dead bodies. One was a dull, growing duller, red. The other a pale, growing paler, gray. Both are shuddering violently.

And then.

Just like that.

They splinter, and shatter. In perfect unison.

For a split second, everything becomes still. Then the memory replays, starting at the point the beast began to wail.

" **...We shouldn't be here.** "

Flowey's regained his half of your shared voice, it seems. It's soft, tight, and full of urgency. He tries to make you turn, to make you move, to make you leave.

Nothing happened.

He tries to make the memory fade, just like the others.

Nothing happened.

He tries to utilize the power you share.

Nothing happened.

He tries to make you do _anything_.

Nothing happened.

Needless to say, this does not please him one bit.

" **Wh...What's happening..? Why can't...why can't we move??** "

You do not say anything, but answer him (and sequentially prove him wrong) by drawing deeper into the looping memory.

" **Wh...wh-what are you doing?** "

The closer you get, the more the memory slows.

" **Frisk what are you _doing_??** "

You come to a stop before the memory of the beast, just as it makes its last desperate plea. The memory's slowed down so much you can pinpoint the precise moment the beast completely turns to dust.

And the exact instant the hearts appear where the beast's chest was.

" **...Stop it.** "

The memory slows even more, making the hearts' shuddering not quite as violent.

" **I mean it.** "

The hearts are practically still as stone.

" **I. Said. Stop it.** "

And that's when you lift your dominant arm, reach your large, paw-like hand toward the fading gray light of Asriel's-

" **FRISK _STOP IT_!** "

A muffled sound of tearing flesh, and you lose dominance over your right arm. With stiff, jerky movements, it's forced down to stay at your side. Determination turns to concrete in your veins, grips your throat, clenches your heart, freezes your expression into one half neutral, half unspeakably outraged.

_YOU._ His voice is in your head again, perfectly matching his half of your expression. _**YOU**...!_

Your voice in your head, just as his, also reflects your half of your expression. _Yes?_

_SO **THIS** WAS YOUR PLAN?!! THIS IS WHAT YOU WERE REALLY SCHEMING ALL ALONG?!?_

_I still want to help Dr. Gaster out, if you're implying that was just a ruse-_

_IT MIGHT AS WELL HAVE BEEN!! WHEN YOUR **REAL** GOAL WAS TO HELP 'HIM' OUT!!!_

_There's no need to shout; I'm right here._

_HOW DARE YOU. HOW. **DARE**. YOU. YOU LYING, CONNIVING, MANIPULATIVE, FILTHY FILTHY LYING LYING LIAR!!!_

_..._

_THIS ISN'T HAPPENING. THIS IS **NOT** HAPPENING!_

_..._

_IF YOU THINK, FOR ONE SECOND, THAT SHARING YOUR SOUL WITH ME WOULD'VE MADE ME 'FEEL' AGAIN, THAT IT WOULD MAKE ME WANT TO BE **HIM** AGAIN, YOU REALLY ARE THE BIGGEST, STUPIDEST IDIOT EVER TO CRAWL THE EARTH!!!_

_..._

_WE'RE NOT DOING THIS. WE'RE **NOT** DOING THIS! YOU'RE **NEVER** GONNA CONVINCE ME TO DO THIS!!!!_

_Then why are we still here?_

That gets the tirade to end, his half-expression to falter. _Be...B-Because YOU'RE keeping us here!_

_I'm not,_ you patiently tell him. _I'm not 'making' us do anything. You're holding the reigns right now, not me._

You feel a flinch.

_Since you're in charge, if you really don't want to do this..._ Your right eye turns toward your left, your gaze calm and questioning. _Then why are we still here?_

Half your expression goes through an entire platoon of different emotions. Anger, indigence, confusion, thoughtfulness, fear, back to anger, and several more that pass through so quickly you're unable to determine them. Your breathing turns huffy and heavy, also constricted thanks to the frozen floes squeezing your lungs.

His half finally settles on something unreadable as his gaze focuses forward; yours does, too. It's still there, right in front of you. That upside-down, pale gray heart you had reached for. The memory it's locked in hasn't stopped, but neither is it necessarily continuing. It's...frozen, you could say. Like an animated computer image glitching on a loop. Switching slowly between the heart staying complete, then breaking in half. This loop continues as you both stare at it, watch that split second between life and death repeat over and over, again and again and again.

The unreadable part of your expression finally breaks into something you can easily interpret: horror.

_I made my choice..._ His voice in your head is shaking. _I m...m-made my choice..! I c-can't come back..! I'm n-not...th-that person anymore! I made my choice!!_

You 'say' nothing, your expression turning sympathetic.

_...And...a-and even if I c-could..! If th-there was a way..! Th-There's no way they'd forgive me!!_

_...They forgave me._

Your left eye shoots a glare toward your right, though it's comparatively pretty tame. _YOU had reasons!_

_Didn't make it right._

_You felt SORRY for it!_

_You could, too._

_I'VE BEEN **POSSESSING** YOU!!_

_Join the club. There're enough members now I can make T-shirts._

Your breathing hitches. You feel your flesh crawl with violent shivers. Your left eye flicks rapidly between looking to your right and back toward the memory before it closes, tightly.

_Why...?_ His voice is even more shaky than before, his demand helpless. _Why are you still doing this..? Why are you being so...so nice to **me**??_

Your left hand clenches into a fist.

_I don't deserve this...! I just **can't** understand why you'd think something like ME deserves this!!_

A half grimace pulls at your mouth, your jaw clenching so tightly your fangs are grinding against each other.

_I KILLED them! I killed them all! Over and over, again and again! Because I was BORED! And they KNOW that now! And they know what I've done to YOU! How many times I've KILLED you! TORTURED you! **BROKE** YOU! ALL BECAUSE I FINALLY HAD SOMETHING **NEW** TO PLAY WITH-!!_

_And I'm suddenly such a saint?_

 

> _writer's note:[listening recommendation](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EV8H45An3c8)_

 

Your left eye snaps open wide, your half-grimace waning.

While half your face stays frozen like that, the other forms an unpleasant grin.

_I meant it, you know. When I was talking about how I wanted revenge. That wasn't just something I was saying to convince Dr. Gaster; I really **did** want them to die. And they don't know that; after all the opportunities I've had to let them know, they **still** don't know that. I haven't exactly been 'lying' to them about it, but I haven't told them the truth, either._

_And it's just like right now; I didn't lie to you about my full intentions, but I didn't tell you the whole truth about them, either. I deceived you to bring_ _us here. You're right: I am a conniving, manipulative, filthy lying liar._ Your half grin becomes more unpleasant. _And a horribly selfish one, too._

You feel the left side of your mouth twitch, chew on words, as though he's trying to think of something to say to argue, but is coming up short.

_Y...You're not...selfish..._ he finally contends, weakly. _A-And that feeling of vengeance; it was only amplified so much that you acted out on it because Chara was-! ...Y-You weren't 'yourself' when you did all those nasty things!_

There's a pause, then a choked, sardonic chuckle manages its way out of your constricted throat.

_Yeah, you're right. I wasn't 'myself'. And that's **not** just because I had another consciousness inside me._

Half your expression slips. _Wh..What?_

Your half grin turns rueful, bittersweet. _I...I wasn't 'myself' during my times in the Underground. I felt as though I couldn't be 'me', that I - nor anyone else - would **allow** me to be. I was what people wanted me to be; what they **needed** me to be._

_Papyrus' ticket into the Royal Guard. Alphys' opportunity to be somebody's hero. Mom's last chance to save even a single child. The enemy of Undyne's people. Another tiny coffin in Asgore's basement. Sans' anomaly. Every single monster's hope to life on the surface..._

Your smile breaks.

_My fellow students' freak. My teachers' lost cause. My parents'...my mother's...m-my f...fa..._

You feel tears sting your eye.

_I've spent so...so long pretending to be what they saw me as...what they needed me to be......that I have no idea who 'myself' even **is** anymore..._

The left half of your face goes wide-eyed, expression completely blank. _...Frisk..._

You try to sniffle, though it's hard to with how stiff your body's become. _In every timeline, I got to know more about the people I met, while they never once bothered to reciprocate. Every single one of them..._

_Except for you._

Your left eye blinks, confusion wrinkling the corresponding brow.

_M-Me? ME??_ He's starting to sound indignant again. _When **I** was the worst identity-mistaking offender?! I called you Chara! I wanted you to BE Chara!! I projected them so much onto you that I convinced myself you WERE Chara!!!_

_But you knew I wasn't._

Taking advantage of how your interruption made him falter again, you elaborate, _You realized you were wrong; that I wasn't who you wanted me to be. No one else did. After you released the souls and destroyed the barrier, everyone played coy. Like they didn't know what they did wrong, like they knew I was 'me' all along._

_But not you. You knew you were mistaken. You made sure you made up for that mistake. You...were...the first...and ONLY person who EVER asked for my **NAME**..._

There's a sensation of ants marching down your right cheek. Your chest convulses with a choked sob.

Not a thought, nor reaction of any kind, comes from your 'soul mate'. Not immediately, that is.

_That...th-that'd better NOT be the only reason why you're doing this! A-And you'd better not pull that 'my reason shouldn't matter' crap on me like you did with Gaster! Because it DOES matter! It matters a whole freaking LOT!! Y-You can't just-just dump this on me and expect me to be content with never knowing WHY!!! Now THAT would be REALLY unbelievably crappy of you!_

A moment of silence passes. You use it to calm yourself down, to make the tears stop flowing. To find a way to put things into words.

_...When we fought...when you still thought I was Chara...you said, "I'm not ready to say goodbye to someone like you again." You cared about them so much. You wanted so badly to keep them there with you. You loved them so much...you didn't want to say goodbye..._

_The truth is-_ You look to your left, your half of your mouth forming a small, sheepish smile. _-neither did I._

That wide-eyed, blank expression takes over the left side of your face again.

_I barely knew you. I didn't get the chance to really know you. The 'real' you, I mean. And yet, despite that, even after all these years...I still kept wondering if there was a way that I **could** get the chance to know you...to get the chance to be the friend you wish you always had._

You feel a twitch go off somewhere in your left side.

_...You know, except for that one moment, when you asked me who I was, you never got to know the 'real' me, either. Both of us never really got to know each other when we were 'us'. Despite all that, despite knowing virtually **nothing** about each other...we've both done things to bring the other happiness. You broke the barrier and set everyone free. And as for me...well..._

You turn your gaze away from your left side, focus it forward. _Look at where we are._

Half your expression becomes unreadable one more.

_...If you really don't want this, I understand. I won't try to change your mind. We'll turn back, and finish what we started with restoring Dr. Gaster. Then you can go back to being a flower again. Or we could stay like this, if you want that._

_...After coming all this way..._ His tone is as unreadable as half your face. _After everything you've done...You're really okay to just...give up?_

_............_

_I gave up a long time ago._

Your left eye widens a little.

_Yet - call it some cosmic event or divine intervention - I was given a second chance. Lots of second chances. More 'second chances' than I can count. It's not 'giving up' if it's not my decision to ultimately make. And that's what I'm offering you. What I felt, for the longest time...I never truly had._

_...Which...is...?_

Though your still unable to move, though it pains you greatly to do so, you say aloud, in your most determined voice,

" **A _choice_.** "

You feel goosebumps pop up and down your left arm, shivers run down your spine. Half your face wears a look of speechlessness.

_...And whatever choice you make, I'll be with you. Any challenges you face, we'll face them together. Any fears that attack you, we'll fight back together. Any and every wrong you want to make up for, we'll repay those debts together. No matter what you decide...I'll stay by your side. No matter what. I promise._

_Because...you, too, are the kind of friend I wish I had._ Your half-smile grows bigger, and a little mischievous. _Besides, I thought you were tired of being a flower._

The longest pause yet commences. One in which neither halves of your face change, neither halves of your body even twitch, not even a single passing thought goes through your mind.

...

......

.........

............

.......................

...Maybe you shouldn't've said that last bi-

Ants are marching down your cheek again by the millions. Your body starts to shake. First a whimper, then a gross, ugly sob bursts out of your mouth.

No longer are your veins cemented and stiff.

" **I _am_ ,**" your shared voice relents, choked for a whole different reason than previously. " **I _AM_..! I'm tired of this, Frisk! I am so...s-so _tired_ , Frisk! Tired of being a flower! Tired of n-not being able to feel! Tired of not being able to _love_!!** "

The flow of tears courses stronger.

" **I d-don't want to go back to that! I don't w-want you t-to stay like this! _I_ don't want to stay like this!! I don't want to j-just 'be'! I don't want to just 'survive'!! I don't want to just 'exist'!! I want to feel again! I want to care again! I want to _love_ again!! I want...I-I w-want..!** "

Another strangled gasp of a sob bursts out.

" **I want to be _alive_..! I want to have a _life_..!** "

Then your head is thrown back, and he cries into the darkness,

" **I WANT TO _LIVE_!!!** "

You become wracked with wails and sobs, every inch of the left side of your face below that eye completely drenched.

Your right side starts to get that way, too. In the only way you know how while in this body, you hug him, wrapping your right arm around yourself and holding tight.

_It's...funny,_ you think, your eye closing and a half-smile somehow appearing on your face. _When I fell...when I realized what I'd done...that's what I wanted, too._

There's a brief pause, then he sobs even harder and throws your left arm around yourself, your body folding and your head hanging. Your left arm's holding you more tightly and desperately than its other half, digging its thorn-like growths into your flesh.

But you don't mind. You don't have the will to mind. All you have the will for is to keep holding him, keep comforting him, keep letting him know that you're here, it's okay, you're here...

Tears have long run dry by the time he's able to stop. You're slumped forward, kneeling in mid-air. Your throat is tender and raw, too, and your head is pounding and feels heavy.

_...Got it all out?_

You sniffle, loudly, and nod, the grip of your left arm loosening. _Y...Yeah._

_You feeling any better..?_

Another nod. _Mm-hmm._

Your left arm releases you completely, followed by your right. Both hands work in tandem to dry your face as best you can, but no matter how much you wipe away, you still feel soggy.

A hoarse, unsure chuckle breaks loose. " **Crybaby,** " he mutters under your breath.

" **Takes one to know one,** " you joke back, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

More unsure laughter spills out, which becomes stronger and more genuine until you both start guffawing. It's an odd sound, considering your shared voice, but you don't mind. Honestly, this is really the most cathartic experience you've had lately.

Eventually, somehow, you're able to stop the laughter, pull yourself together. You slowly right yourself, suddenly very wary of how your body works. A moment of re-orientation later, your gaze turns forward, sees the memory still 'glitching' on that one moment of fate.

A twinge of fear makes the left side of your face grimace.

_...You really think they'll forgive me?_ you feel he can't help asking. _After everything I've done..?_

_I know it's scary to think they won't,_ you patiently assure him, _but I KNOW they will._

_How..? How can you be so sure..?_

_...Because I thought they wouldn't, either. Why don't you see for yourself? I'll let you into my thoughts; think of 'the night of the blizzard'. You'll see what I mean._

You 'open your mind', so to speak, and he, hesitantly, peers into it. You feel him do what you asked, feel him find the night you spoke of. His half of your face turns pale and gaunt the moment he does.

_You...y-you really asked Sans to **kill** you?_

_On my knees and BEGGED._ The memory makes you pale, too.

A quiet moment passes as he drinks this in, processes what you've shown him.

_...And despite that, despite the fact that he was - arguably - the one person I had wronged the most throughout my timelines...he still found it within himself to forgive me. And if someone like me could be forgiven...so can someone like you._

He's silent some more, then withdrawls from your memory, face set in determination.

_Okay. I'll hold you to that._ A sort of sheepishness enters his expression. _But...y-you still promise to stay with me, right? That we'll face this, face them, together?_

Your half smile grows warmer, friendlier. _Of course I will._

He spends a moment getting himself to believe it, then makes your head nod. Both your eyes look forward again, and you draw closer to-

_W-Wait!_

You halt once more, and look to your left in curious confusion.

_Is...Is it safe to do this?_ he questions. _If we alter this moment, would 'I' still be here? Would Flowey still come into existence? Won't this create a- what was it called again...? A paradox?_

_I considered that, too,_ you confess. _How to get around that. Thankfully, Sans gave me a few ideas._

You open your thoughts back up, to let him find out what you're talking about. He does, and as he contemplates it, a chuckle - small, yet genuine - leaves your mouth.

_Heh. Nice to know old ST's good for SOMETHING._

You chuckle back in agreement. Then you look back forward, focused. _Ready?_

He inhales deeply, bracing yourselves, then also looks back forward, focused. _As I'll ever be._

The memory freezes, and you start to concentrate.

\----

How curious, the power of determination.

High quantities granted the power to turn back the clock, to 'reset'. High quantities granted the power to cheat death itself. Higher quantities still granted the power to create something out of nothing.

Quite curious.

Willed into existence from literal nothingness, though remaining incomplete in the absence of the determination that had created it, Dr. Gaster's persona remained 'standing' before this translucent mound of earth, making no sound nor making no movement. The source of determination that had borne this ephemeral landmark had long since been swallowed up by the darkness, the second landmark they created and passed through vanishing as instantaneously as they had. Yet this one remained, even without being basked in the radiation of determination they housed.

Very interesting, indeed...

With only himself and the remnants of bygone epochs to keep him company in the Absolute, to sense the presence of another being joining him in the void was ridiculously, alarmingly easy. The presence he felt now was strong, familiar, yet he kept his eyelights trained upon the transparency of their landmark.

**TI̢ME.̶.̛.͞HO̵ĻDS ͢NO̷ ME҉ANIN̸G̵ HE̡RE͘.҉ A͏ S͢E͜C̴ǪND͠ HERE͢ COU̸L̵D EQ̛U̡AT̶E͘ ̸T҉O ҉D͝ECADES OUT̨ '̴T͘H͡E̕R͝E'. O̵R A͝N ̛HOU͟R ͡'T͜H͏ERE'̸ ̛T̵O̧ A ̷M͠ILL͜E̴N̵N͡I͘A ͡HE͏R͝E.͠ THE͏ P͞AS̷SAGE O͝F̢ T͞IME̸ ̷I̴S ̴V͘E͢RY͟ M̵EA͞NIN͡GL͞ESS ͞HERE.**

A small chuckle originated from him.

**AND͡ ͠YET,̕ ͜D̸E҉SPI͡TE̢ ͘ITS I͝NS̶IGNI̴FICAN̵CE͢.͠.҉.̵Y͢OU ̢WE͟RE ͡CE̸R͘T̵AIN̛LY̴ G̶ON̷E̴ A̢ LOT LON͢GȨR̵ THAN̷ I ͝E͡XP̶ECTE̸D ҉YOU TO BE.͞**

The crushing silence of the Absolute answered him.

**I ̡H͡AVE̕ BE͝E̢N.̛..U͘SING T͏HĄT TI͢M͏E. TO̵ ͜PO̢N͡D̕ER,͠ AN̕D RE͠F̧LEC̵T͡.̧ I҉F̨ Y̧O̢U̸'LL͟ PERM͡IT ME...̡I W͜OUL̡D L̕IĶE҉ T҉O '͞PI͡CK ̡Y҉OUR MI͡ND'̸ ONĘ ̶M̕OR̕E T̸IM̛E.͢ ̶F͟OR͞ I ͠H̴AVE ̧A PREŞSI̧NG̡ ͝MAT҉T̕ER I̸ ͘ŅĘE̷D͡ ̡Y͢OU ̶T͠O RESOLVȨ.**

The silence answered him once more. His gaze shifted, focused on his hands.

**'W̸H̢A̛TEV͘ER I͜T T͡AKES'.̸ T͘H̵A͠T͠ IS ͜A VERY҉ ̸D̕AN̢GE͜R͠OU̴S̡ ̢MIN҉DSET T̡O AC͢T ͏U̴P҉O͡N, ͢HŲMA̧N. ̛IT͡ ͡M̛A͟K͢ES ǪNE͝ ͞CO͘M̸E TO Q͟U̕E҉S͠TION͘AB̷LE̡ C͠ONCL̴U͏S̕IONŞ. ALL͘OWS̕ ͏O͟N̴E̡ T҉O͞ CO͝NVINCE̴ ON̶ESELF͠ ͡T̕HAT ͠THE ENDS҉ ͜JU̢S̕T͠IF͝Y̨ T͘H̶E ̡M̵E̵ANS̕. ̴TH̨E͘ MORA̸LLY͝ ̨AM̡B͠IG͝UOUS CHOICE͘S͞ ̨YOU҉ M̴AKE BECOME ̷JUS͞T͞I̢FI̡ED, ̕IF̧ ͝IN TH͘E END, IT'S ALL ̡F͢OR͡ ͞T̵HE̛ ̛GR̸E͏A҉T͜E̶R ҉ĢOO͏D͏.**

His hands flexed, a little.

**I HA͟D̴ THI̧S ͡MI͝N̛DŞET͠,͜ ̢W̡HE͞N ̛I͠ CAR̡RI̴ED͢ ̡O̸UT ͏MY EXPE͝R͝I̢ME͏NT̛S͝. ̛Y͏OU̵ ͞D͏I̡D̢ ̧AS̛ ̶W̶E̷L͜L͘, WHILST͘ ̢T̵R̶AVERSING ͟THE ̸U̢N̴D̕E̡RGRO̵U҉N̴D. Y̷OU͟ ̶INTENDED TO D͞O ͠WHĄTE͞V̢ER ̵IT̵ ̵TOO͞K̸ ̶T͞O FREE M̨ǪNS͡TE͝R͢S͝ FŖOM̛ T͡H͏EIR ̨M̛ILLE̵NNI͢A OF ̡ĮM͝P̡RI̡SON͘MEN̷T, ȨV͘E͞N I͝F̛ I̧T ̡M̨EA͜NT͜ ͘F̢O̕RFE͘ITI̕NG YO̢UR̡ ̶OWN ̛LIF҉E͘. ȨVEN̵ ͡N̨O̴W, ̕YO̶U͝ ͜K̨EEP ̶TH͝I҉S҉ ͟M̨IN͡D̸SET. ̛AL҉L̛ I̕N ATT̸E͜MPT͜ ̡T̵O ̶F̸REE ͟M̕E F̕ROM҉ _MY_ IM͝PR͘I̴S̕O͡N͢M̷EN̡T.̵..**

Silence once more.

**HERE̴ I̷S̸ M͏Y QUĘSTI̵ON̸ ̸F͘OR Y͠OU,̨ HU̕MAN: ͟CONSID͝E̷RI̡N̵G ̶THE LENG͞THS ̛Y̶O͏U̷ WEN̴T ̸TO ͟IN͘ ͡TH͞E̶ P̕AST͠,̛ ͠THE L͝ĘN͢G͘T̸H͝S ͝YO̷U҉'͢VE͡ ͏GON͠E TH̡RO͞UG͝H̕ N̸O͏W͡,͡ I̷F̕ YO͘Ư AR̢E ͞S̢O DESPE͜R͡ATE̢ ̴T͏O D͢O̢ 'WHA̴TE̴V͠E̢R IT TAK̴ES͠' TO̷ SAV͜E̵ M̵E.͞..A̴R̷E ̶YOU ͜S̴TIL͜L ͝W͞IL͘LI̴NG̷ ̢TO̕ F̷ORF͢E̛IT ͡Y̧O̵ŲR LIF̸E ̛F͜OR̨ ͡THI̕S͞ C̸AUSE̴..͜?**

It was so, so quiet. Like he really was just talking to himself.

Then, finally, someone else answered.

" **I am.** "

Dr. Gaster kept staring at his hands.

" **...But, if it's all the same to you, that's just a last resort. I fully plan on making it out of this alive.** "

His hands relaxed, a little.

" **The issue at hand, really, is who's making it out with me.** "

His eyelights shifted back to the earth mound. He became as silent as the emptiness around him.

" **...You're scared.** "

It wasn't a question. Whatever he had for shoulders hunched forward in response to it. He still would not utter a word.

" **......Do you want to know why I'm doing this? The _whole_ reason why I'm willing to go through such lengths to help you?** "

Some mangled sound that failed to be a scoff rang out. **THAT͡, T͜OO͜, ̕I̡ ͜H̶A҉V͏E͜ ͟BEE̵N͞ PON̵D̷ERING. ̕I͢S ̕IT҉ ͠B̛E͘C͢A̷US̷E YO͘U F̡EEL͝ S̵OR̸R͏Y FOR ME?̢ TA̷KE͢N P͡IT̡Y̴ O͠N ͞ME͡?͡ ̸O̡R҉ PE̡RHAP̕S ̡Y̡ǪU S͘I̧MP̸LY͠ W͝ISH T͢O SEE҉ ME B͜ROUGH̸T ͟TO͟ JUSTIC̸E ͘F̷OR̶ ̶MY CR̶IM̷E͏S̡.̸**

" **Not at all, Doctor.** "

The mangled scoff rang out again, this time sounding a little testy, a little angry. **T̨RULY,͏ YOU̵ AR̷E ͞A ͘VERY ̸V͘E͘X҉I҉N̨G ̢INDI͏V͡I̢DU̕AL, H̶UM͘A͏N. ͞C͜A҉N ̵TH͞ERE͏ _BE_ A͘NY OTHE͜R ͘RE͜AS̕O͟N?**

" **Of course there can be. And there is.** "

**TH̸E̵N _W҉HY_.͝.?̷** Whatever constituted for his body started to shake. **WH͟Y S̶ḨO̸W ͟SUCH SELF͘LES͝S̷ ̸ME͝RCY͢ T͢O ͜T̨HIS͞ ͞A̶R͟ROG͡A̧N̷T O̶LD̴ ̧ _FOOL͜_??̵?**

" **...Because...you had such a kind smile.** "

That got the shakes to stop completely, the testiness and anger to vanish just as completely.

" **Everyone makes mistakes. It's only natural. You may have made a lot of them, but they don't define you. Deep down, past all your mistakes, I still believe you're a good man. A good man who loved his children so much...he was willing to do whatever it took to give them a bright future.** "

Whatever he had for muscles went slack.

" **Your smile was...so gentle and kind when you were with them. And I...I just want to see you smile like that again.** "

Unexpected.

Completely unexpected.

They'd done something entirely unexpected.

They had stumped the greatest mind in recent monster history.

**....̡.̨.SƯCH..̶.AN͟ I̷NNOCE͜N͡T ANSW͡ER...͝.͢..**

His stare, blankly, pointed straight into the darkness in front of him.

**BUT̨, T͘HEN̷ ĄG̸AIN.̢.̶.** He turned, slowly, toward the voice he had been debating with. **I̧ ̛S̷UP̸PO̵SE̡ YǪU ͘ARE ̶STIĻL̡ OŅLY ͞A̡.̴..̨C͘HILD..̛.̢.̷..**

Facing the presence, he became still and static once more. He stared at them in complete silence, immobile expression doing its best to convey how blank his mind had become.

Then he

started

to laugh.

It was small at first. Lost. Unsure. Like someone who had never laughed before a day in their life. Like someone who'd never even heard laughter before. He seemed uncomfortable with it, like it was some poisonous substance choking his airway.

As it continued, it grew. Became more confident, more natural. Soon it became the giggles of someone drunk on giddiness or sleep-deprivation. Those giggles eventually evolved, became stronger, louder, more confident until he was doubled over, and he let loose the howling sound of his hearty, mirthful chortles.

The very same he had often used a long...long time ago.

If this form had not the limitations, his eye sockets would have watered by now. The dark emptiness of the void was filled with his laughter; it continued for an incalculable amount of time before it finally lessened. Before he looked back to the person before him, his immobile expression somehow feeling less so, and confessed,

**I̡ ̶HAD A̕ F͟EEL͢I͜NG̸...҉YO̴U͠ WOU̡LD ̵ATT͏E̵M͠PT ͜SOME̢T̴H̷ING̡ ̶LIKE THI̵S. S͟O̢ THA͡T͢ ̡IS̷ WH҉AT̶ ̡I S͝ENS̡ED͠,͏ BE͞FORE̸ Y͘O̧U͢ R҉E̶TURNE҉D...̧**

He lightly shook his head in wonder. **Y̡OU͘..͞.**

Meeting their gaze, his smile felt more genuine than it had felt since...forever.

**Y̵O̧U͞ ͜NE̕VER C̷E͜A͝S̵E T̡O A͜MA̷ZE ͜M̶E..̶.F̛RIS̢K.**

A hand reached for him, stopping just in front of his 'body'.

" **C'mon, Dr. Gaster.** " The hand was held out in invitation. " **It's time _everyone_ went free.** "

With no interference and little hesitation, the offer was accepted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this would've been uploaded sooner but the storm kept killing my internet >:x  
> in fact i was about to upload it then the internet died and. saved. NOTHING. (ʘ‿ʘ)
> 
> on a much different note WE ARE APPROACHING END GAME PEOPLE
> 
> ONLY FOUR MORE CHAPTERS TO GO
> 
> GET HYPE


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have no sense of moderation when it comes to chapter lengths ._.  
> Part 2 now live!!

**Part I**

 

_White. Blind. Soundless. Weightless. Numb._

_No feeling. No thinking. No 'being'._

_Nothing._

_Nothing._

_Nothing._

. . . m   r o o t i n '   f o r   y a   ,   k . . .

_Then Sans opened his eyes._

_Everything was blurry. His mind felt fuzzy, kind of like the buzz he'd get after a beer or two. Experimentally, he wiggled some phalanges, willing some feeling back into them; they started to feel tingly. There was still a lingering sensation of feeling disconnected from everything, but this, at least, was a start._

_"Is...Is everyone alright?"_

_He blinked heavily. He...he knew that voice. He heard it several times through a giant door, only once before in person. What was this person's name again? It was..._

_"..._ goat _to admit it, toriel," he mumbled, voice a little slurred. "but i am feelin' a little_ bonetrousled _at the moment."_

_He just barely caught a breathless giggle before a loud groan overpowered it. "SANS. PLEASE. NOW IS NOT THE TIME FOR SUCH JAPERY."_

_"aw, c'mon. i know you're smiling."_

_"I AM AND I HATE IT."_

_Sans snickered (others did, too, and others groaned), and raised his head._

_He found himself sitting slumped against a wall, and so were the other five monsters around him. They all looked like he was feeling: dazed, groggy, all in all_ _completely out of it. This universally shared disorientation was slowly fading, as he and the others reconnected with the world, shook off the numbness, unsteadily_ _righted themselves._

 _"Okay," Undyne hissed, unsurprisingly the fastest at recovering as she got straight to her feet, one hand massaging her temple. "What the_ hell _just_ _happened??"_

_"I-I have no idea," blearily confessed Alphys, seeming to struggle to fix her askew glasses._

_"Neither do I," admitted Toriel as Undyne helped Alphys up. "Can anyone recall what we were doing?"_

_"NYEH! THE GREAT PAPYRUS HAS A GREAT MEMORY, YOUR MAJESTY!" Papyrus proudly proclaimed, then just as proudfully admitted, "AND YET! I HAVE NOT A SINGLE CLUE! A_ _VERY TROUBLESOME DEVELOPMENT, INDEED."_

_Sans blinked again, looking at the people around him blankly as he wracked his mind. Turned out he couldn't remember anything, either._

_Weird._

_"mass amnesia, then..?" he wondered under his breath, looking at the floor in thoughtfulness. "that's a fi-"_

_"Um, A-Asgore? Are you okay?"_

_Alphys' question prompted Sans to look back up, to look Asgore's way. He caught others following suit, and he found that the king of all monsters was statue still,_ _his body turned away from the others, and a look of pure shock on his face._

_"is, uh, he alright?" Sans asked aloud, directing the question mostly at Toriel._

_"I am sure he will be," Toriel answered, looking a little peevish. "He becomes this way often after being caught off gua-"_

_"...one..."_

_"What was that, Asgore?"_

_"...s...gone..."_

_Confusion coupled with a twinge of irk wrinkled Toriel's face. "Oh, do speak up, Dreemurr! You know how hard it is to understand you when you mumble so!"_

_"It's gone." Finally, Asgore spoke up. And his deep, rumbling voice was full of awe. "The barrier. It's_ gone _."_

 _Sans' sockets widened, his grin faltering._ wh..what?

 _He stared in the direction Asgore's head was pointed toward. He knew of it - so did every single monster in the whole Underground - but he had only actually seen_ _it in person once. He knew what it looked like, what it sounded like, how powerful and hope-crushingly omnipotent the energy it thrummed with felt._

_Which is why looking that way now completely destroyed any doubt manifested that Asgore was just yanking everyone's chain._

_Where there had been monochrome, color abounded. Where there had been an ethereal hum, the whistling of wind and the song of a bird harmonized. Where once had been_ _a sense of oppressive despair, the dying twilight shining in from the world outside gave the underground world inside light, warmth, hope._

_Sans' arms went slack, his face blank and his mind empty. And just when he was starting to get back on track, too._

_"Holy shiiiiiitake mushrooms."_

_Undyne, at least, sounded like she was still wary enough to filter her language. Not to say she didn't sound as completely stunned as everyone else did, though._

_"Oh my god," Alphys murmured, too bewildered to stutter._

_"WELL!" Papyrus said, bluntly. "THAT HAPPENED!"_

_"It's...gone..." Toriel breathlessly parroted her ex-husband. "It...really is gone..."_

_Sans felt more and more like he was dreaming. He didn't even fully comprehend that he had walked forward, and reached a hand out to hesitantly touch the air where_ _the barrier had been, as if it had simply turned invisible, and touching it would wake him back up._

 _Was this real? Was this really, really happening? Or was this some sort of sick prank someone was playing on him and everyone else? For a thousand years,_ _monsterkind universally had one thing on their mind, one united end goal to reach. Finally, after all these centuries...was this really-_

crkk!

 _Sans became still, his arm barely halfway up and only a few steps scooted forward. There was something under his slipper; something that made a soft, sharp sound_ _when he had stepped down. He glanced downwards and lifted his foot up, seeing something clear and broken underfoot._

_Was that...glass?_

_It was. Not only that, but he could see that there were several more shards littered about than the one he'd stepped on. They were scattered here and there, though_ _they appeared to be somewhat clustered together. How many of those groups were there? One...two...three...four...five...six...sev-_

_His joints locked up. He felt his eyelights vanish._

_All at once, the memories came flooding back._

_A gathering before the barrier. Six lights in jars. An empty seventh. A flash of green and gold. Someone collapsing. A horrible_ THWACK _that made his calcium crawl._ _A cry of desperation, cut off quickly and mercilessly._

_"Get out of here IT'S A TRA-"_

_His gaze fixating on what had made this warning unlocked the memories. What completely broke whatever amnesiac spell he'd been under was the word that formed in_ _his mind, that he whispered under his breath in muted horror:_

 _"_ frisk _."_

_The word broke the others out of their stupor, too. Every head turned the same way. Every gaze focused on the same thing._

_Every expression turned to horror._

_"Frisk!"_

_Several more glass shards were crushed underfoot as everyone rushed toward the human child lying face down on a patch of grass a few yards away. Toriel reached_ _them first, with Sans (to his mild surprise) coming in at a close second, and swooped down to, carefully, turn them over._

_Their eyes were shut, their face expressionless._

_They weren't moving at all._

_"This is all just a bad dream...!"_

_It sounded like Toriel was trying to convince herself of this. Shaking her head, she cupped a slightly tremulous palm around the side of their head, the other_ _clutching the Delta Rune woven into her robes._

_"Please, wake up...!"_

_Sans heard his brother sniffling. He heard several of the others shift uneasily where they stood. As for himself, he felt paralyzed by a mix of worry and_ _anticipation, his gaze fixated on the face Toriel cradled._

_...Were...were they...?_

_A finger twitched. Eyelids fluttered. A soft, sleepy moan resounded, and Frisk awoke._

_They opened their eyes. Or, at least, he thought they did. The kid had such thick eyelashes - and seemed to have a perpetual half-lidded gaze - that it made it_ _hard to tell most of the time. But as Frisk stirred, turned their head a little toward the one closest in front of them, Sans could safely determine that they were_ _definitely looking at Toriel in groggy bewilderment._

_"...M...Mom...?"_

_Toriel's expression broke into overwhelmed joy and relief. "Oh! You are awake! Thank goodness!"_

_Breaths of relief were released all around. Sans himself felt a little relieved, too._

_"W-We were so worried...!" Alphys admitted. "It felt like you were out forever!"_

_"Yeah!" agreed Undyne. "Any longer and I would have freaked out! Tell us next time you decide to take a nap, okay!?"_

_It didn't really feel like 'forever' to Sans, in all honesty. But he smiled and said, "yeah. you made papyrus cry like a baby."_

_"WHAT!! I DIDN'T CRY!!!" Papyrus indignantly denied. "I DON'T CRY!! I JUST...CAUGHT SOMETHING IN MY EYE."_

_"what did you catch?"_

_"TEARS!!!"_

_Frisk blinked, slowly, then just as slowly started to turn their head towards-_

_"Nngh..!"_

_They cringed, their blank face breaking into a grimace as one of their hands shot to the back of their head._

_"Oh! Are you hurt?" Toriel asked, the relief on her face flickering. "Here, let me see..."_

_She eased them into a sitting position, leaning their head forward and moving their hand out of the way so she could assess the area it'd been covering. "Hmm...It_ _is only a bump, thank goodness. Here; this will ease the pain."_

_The gentle green glow of healing magic coated her palm, which she laid against the base of their skull. Seconds later, the stiffness of Frisk's body relaxed._

_Sans, too, relaxed. "geez, frisk. why'd'ja hafta go and bump your head an' scare us like that for?"_

_"I HARDLY THINK IT'S THEIR FAULT!" Papyrus defended. "THAT- THAT BLUR, I BELIEVE, IS THE CAUSE!"_

_"I remember that," Undyne concurred. "And if I ever see that blur again, I'm gonna make it pay for blindsiding my bestie like that!!"_

_"Now, now," pacified Asgore. "The important part is that Frisk is alright."_

_Toriel finished healing Frisk, then helped them to stand. They were a little wobbly on their feet, and had their hand back on the back of their head, massaging it_ _carefully._

_"Here, Frisk." Pulling it out from...somewhere, Asgore presented a teacup and held it out to Frisk. "Why not drink some tea? It'll make you feel better."_

_"Errr...How about we give them space, first?" suggested Toriel, shooting a sharp look of warning at her former husband as she followed her own suggestion. "They_ _must be very exhausted."_

 _Indeed, even though they just woke up, the kid looked as though they'd been pulling all-nighters for an entire week. As the words left her mouth, a look of_ _surprise washed over Toriel. "Though, from what, I am not certain."_

_Frisk glanced up at her, curiously._

_"Frisk...we do not remember exactly what happened," she patiently explained. "There was a flower...and then, everything went white."_

_Sans' sockets widened a little. That's right. That blur that had struck Frisk; it was a flower. But what surprised him even more was that, even though he_ _remembered the events leading up to that point, what came after was still a mystery._

_Again, weird._

_Toriel, pondering it a moment longer, waved a hand in dismissal. "But now the barrier is gone. When you are ready, we will all return to the surfa-"_

_"What did you say?"_

_Frisk was staring at her face intently, alarm rising in theirs. "What...did you just say..??"_

_Toriel held their gaze a moment longer before, serenely, repeating, "I said, 'the barrier is gone'."_

_Their alarm peaked. They whipped their head around, then bolted past Asgore, straight toward the door everyone had been near when they came to. Without slowing_ _down, which almost made them trip and fall, they rounded the corner and scrambled into the room beyond, breaking more glass along the way. They were out of sight for a_ _few moments before they returned, slowly, their expression completely blank with shock._

_Sans chuckled at this. "had to see it for yourself, huh? i don't blame ya; papyrus' jaw was practically on the floor once we realized it was gone, too."_

_"S-So was yours, as I recalled..!" Alphys teased. "But, uh, yeah. It sure w-was a shock when we saw that it was gone!"_

_"It felt like a dream, honestly," Undyne admitted. "But you wanna know how I figured out it wasn't? 'Cause if this was a dream, I'd be smooching Alphys without_ _needing to come up for air!!"_

 _Alphys squeaked like a mouse, then covered her turning-red face with her hands. "U-U-Undyne oh my_ god _..!"_

_Undyne chortled and playfully punched Alphys' shoulder. Frisk returned to stand in the midst of the monsters, still looking lost in a daze._

_"...Perhaps, you might want to take a walk?"_

_Toriel's gentle suggestion got Frisk to glance up at her. She went on to propose, "You can say goodbye to all of your wonderful friends. Or, perhaps, spread the_ _word of our freedom? Do as you wish. We will all wait for you here."_

 _Frisk kept looking at her smiling face. Their gaze swept over the other smiling faces surrounding them, then they turned toward the entrance to the throne room_ _behind them. With sluggish steps, they walked that way._

_"WHILE YOU ARE OFF SPREADING THE WORD! THIS IS THE PERFECT TIME FOR ME TO MAKE FRIENDS WITH ASGORE'S CLONE! NYEH HEH HEH HEH!"_

_"Papyrus, please, I am not a clone. And I have a name; it is Toriel."_

_"yeah, and while you're gone, tori here can dish the dirt about_ all _your embarrassing stories."_

 _"Oh, yes I can! Did you know that they called me 'mother'...and then_ flirted _with me?"_

_"oh boy."_

_"WOW, FRISK...THIS REALLY PUTS OUR RELATIONSHIP IN A NEW LIGHT."_

_"Oh, certainly. It is hard to believe anyone would want to flirt with me, is it not?"_

_"Ehehe...Ehehehe...AHA! AHAHAH! HA!! HA!!! Oh, Toriel. You have NO idea."_

_"Oh, before I forget, Frisk, if ever you need anything, you may call me on your phone. I shall be sure to answer you."_

_"Or, y'know, texting works, too!"_

_"I am...sorry? Undyne, what is this 'texting'?"_

_"Y-You have a phone but don't know how to text? Why- oh my god that thing is_ ancient _! H-Hold on, I'll upgrade it for you! Thank goodness I n-never leave_ _home without my tools, aheheheh!"_

_"Just like Asgore never goes anywhere without tea at the ready! Fuhuhuhu!"_

_"You never know when the need for tea will arise, Undyne. Though, I must admit, not many enjoy cold tea; I really should find a better way to keep it warm for long_ _periods of time."_

_"And simply re-heating it with your magic is insufficient, Asgore?"_

_"...Oh. Right."_

_Sans, and a few others, let out good-natured chuckles. He glanced back toward the throne room entrance, which Frisk had finally reached, their hand against and_ _dragging along the rough cave wall as they trudged along, then disappeared in the shadows cast by the tunnel._

 _Conversations continued around him - he noted one in which Papyrus was asking Asgore to make him a member of the Royal Guard - but he had stopped participating in_ _them. A smile remained on his face, but he felt it become faker and faker by the second._

 _So, this was it, huh? The outcome everyone had been pining for. The best result imaginable. The barrier destroyed, the surface accessible, the monsters free. The_ _kid made this happen. And once they came back, they would all leave the Underground together, and live the rest of their lives on the surface. He had absolutely nothing_ _to worry about._

_There was no way all this could be suddenly snatched away at the drop of a hat, after all._

_Absolutely...no...way..._

_"Hey! Where do you think you're going, punk??"_

_Undyne caught him before he could even take three paces. No longer able to make his retreat without anyone noticing, he turned back to the others and winked. "just_ _thought i'd pop into grillby's for a quick bite. one last meal before goin' to the surface, y'know?"_

 _"I AM SURE THE SURFACE WORLD HAS FOOD, SANS!" protested his brother. "AND HOPEFULLY NOT ANY THAT IS ABSOLUTELY DROWNING IN GREASE! THAT WOULD CERTAINLY PUT A_ _DAMPER ON THIS JOYOUS OCCASION! NYEH!"_

_"I told Frisk that we would wait for them together," said Toriel, a hint of disapproval in her gaze. "If you are not back when they return..."_

_Sans waved his hand dismissively. "s'cool, tori. i know a few shortcuts that'll have me there 'n back in no time flat."_

_Toriel still looked unsure, but let out a sigh. "Very well. But you will certainly have a lot to explain for if Frisk returns before you do."_

_"i'd best be off then." With a wave, Sans walked away from the group towards the archway leading to the surface._

_"Er, Sans, G-Grillby's is-"_

_"s'fine, alph." He rounded a corner, flashing the others a grin. "like i said: i know a few shortcuts."_

_"WAIT...HOW DO YOU KNOW MY BROTHER, DR. ALPHYS?"_

_"U-Um..."_

_"doesn't everybody?"_

_He kept his pace as he entered the antechamber beyond, then slowed to a stop halfway across it._

_The light of the sun pooled on the patch of earth he stood upon, fell upon and shone on his face. Before, the barrier had let this sunlight reach the Underground,_ _namely in the Final Corridor and the throne room, but it had always been an empty light. Now that the barrier was gone, the sunlight was no longer so empty. It was_ _warm. Even though his lack of skin made him mostly immune to changes in temperature, it was...so..._ warm _..._

 _The distant voices of the others getting acquainted with one another reached him as he just stood there, drinking up the warmth of the setting sun and the c_ _amaraderie born of the bonds being created and strengthened just one room over. There was no need for him to take in and remember every detail, like he'd never_ _experience this again._

 _Yeah, that's right. Everyone would become better friends with one another. And they would get to experience this warmth every day for the rest of their lives. This_ _was the beginning of a bright new future for him, for his friends and family, for monsters, for humans, for everyone..._

_"...heh. yeah, right."_

_He stuffed his hands in his pockets, crinkling a wad of paper crumpled up in one of them. The note burning a hole in the fabric, he walked away from the light, and_ _back into darkness, into the real world, defaulting to his usual grin, his usual apathy, his usual bleak, doubtful mindset._

 _How long was_ this _going to last?_

\----

Time ticked on, slowly, marked mostly by electronic beeps and trills, the churning of magma and energy, and occasionally by the hum of magic. Not a breath of word was spoken, for there was nothing to be said.

Well, nothing that would smother the burning despair practically scorching the very air.

Alphys was the one causing the electronic beeps and trills; she had herself stationed at one of the two pairs of double terminals facing each other, and did not stray from them for even a moment. With guidance from blueprints she had saved a soggy fate from and brought with her from her surface lab, she was familiarizing herself with everything she could about the machine through the consoles she slaved away at, her eyes getting puffier and redder from scarcely even blinking as she worked.

This was supposed to be her area of expertise, after all. She may as well try to do _something_ right, and actually be prepared for anything.

The hum of magic came from Undyne practicing her spear-summoning, refining and honing techniques she'd already had years of practice and application to perfect. Yet she was pacing herself considerably more slowly than in previous times; she was still recovering from all the magic she had expended already. She went through these practiced, familiar motions to calm herself (though the grim scowl on her face never once lessened), give herself a sense of being prepared and in control of the situation.

There was no other real reason to do this, of course. The problem she and the others currently faced wasn't something she could punch in the face, after all.

Asgore, kingly graces and centuries of royal conditioning be damned, sat slumped with his legs dangling over the edge of the platform the machine was built upon. His somber gaze looked out past the lava the platform was built over, pooled into a sea of magma that flowed like waterfalls over the edges of a wall of rock, at least a hundred yards away from the platform's edge, that seemed to circle completely around the platform. He could wonder if this basin had been created naturally, or if it had been purposefully carved out of the earth to both collect the magma, and hide this esoteric section of the Core from an outsider's perspective.

He was only thinking of one thing at the moment, though. He was wondering if this 'project' had been crafted and completed without his prior approval, or if, for him, the allure of changing the past outweighed the challenge of building a future.

Toriel had not moved at all. Rooted to the spot, her head hung low, eyes sweeping over the floor beyond an invisible line she could not cross. They took in every burn mark that had scorched the floor black, every blood splatter that stained it red, every scrap of fabric littering it, each tear and gouge and claw mark that ripped, tore, and mutilated the solid steel. Every mark left by the violent fits of a gruesome transformation her unblinking gaze took in, and kept taking in.

To think, it had been her child that caused this destruction. Her child who, no matter how hard she tried, she could not stop feeling she had utterly failed in being the mother they needed.

Papyrus had not wandered far when the group dispersed. He stood with his back to the others (same with everyone else), and had his attentions on the darkened spots staining the red piece of fabric he held in his gloved hands. A cape or a scarf; it was a very versatile addition and key component of his 'battle body' he had recently lent to a friend, and finally got back. The stains upon it made him, the Great Papyrus, think about the development of his relationship with that friend, how those past events made him truly doubt how 'great' he really was, made him truly understand why his friend once looked upon him in something much stronger than 'fright'. He had fought them. He had held them down against their will. He had walked away without a scratch after beating them within an inch of their life.

But, hey. At least he never killed them.

And as for his brother...

As for Sans......

He stood with the toes of his slippers just barely skimming the edge of the veil containing the rift. He stood with his arms hanging limp at his sides, his mouth in an unsmiling line, his dim eyelights watching the darkness squirm and writhe within the machine's jaws.

He felt like he'd been standing there since the dawn of time. Watching. Waiting. And waiting. And _waiting_...

How much longer would he have to wait?

How much longer would he have to stand there?

How long was this going to _last_???

Felt like the wall of living darkness itself was asking him these questions. Mocking him, taunting him. Tempting him to make the anticipation hurt less. To stop torturing himself by waiting so diligently. To just give up.

...But he didn't. He _couldn't_. No matter how much it hurt, he dared not shy or look away. He remained a steadfast sentry (heh, irony), staring down the blackness as though making his sights stray even a centimeter would make him forget why he was there to begin with.

Because that's what it did. There was a literal void within that darkness; a void that took, and took, and _took_ , and never gave back. It took his co-workers. It took the man he once called 'father'. It took and stripped away every trace and memory of their very existences.

And now...

Now, it had...

......

No. It was no good.

When he thought of them, tried to remember what they looked like, all he could see was that...that _beast_. That clawed, horned, fanged, growling, snarling, overflowing-with-power god that had taken them over, tainted their memory, became the last he saw of them before the void took them. Devoured them.

Reclaimed them.

He hadn't sensed it, at first. Standing there long enough, exposing himself to the contained presence it radiated, and he was given another reason he wanted to keep them away from this living darkness. That feeling of dread, of doom, of everything, suddenly, ending. That's what the rift was. What the anomaly was.

What he had extracted from their soul the night of the snowstorm was.

What remained of that once-human was.

What 'Chara' was.

He swore he'd never let it so much as touch them again. But now...now...

...It didn't necessarily 'take' them, he reminded himself. They had gone on their own volition. Purposefully entered the rift to pursue one it _had_ taken, without so much as a farewell.

Maybe that's what made it hurt so much. Maybe it would've hurt less if they had been forcibly dragged into the darkness. Maybe he would have preferred that, instead of watching them willingly sink into the mire, walk back into its embrace, all while wearing that unfamiliar smile...

It couldn't end like this. That couldn't be the last he ever saw of them. They had to prove him wrong; that the void didn't just 'take'. Surely, they had enough power, the power of a _god_ at this point. They could defy the darkness, find or even carve their own way back out of its possession.

They had to come back.

They had to.

They were not the type to break promises, after all.

...Except...

They didn't exactly 'promise' him that they'd come back. Hell, they didn't even _say_ anything about coming back at all. Only that they'd avoid getting into any hairy situations.

(A _void_. Heh. Nice one, kiddo. And 'lighten up'? Oh, man. That's one for the books.)

...It didn't matter if they gave their word or not. They _wanted_ to come back, didn't they? To be reunited with their family after this quest of theirs was complete, right?

So they had to find a way back.

They just _had_ to...

......

.........

............

...Since when did he start caring so much, anyway?

His eyelids seemed to groan in protest from disuse as he blinked, feeling surprised. That sure was an odd thought to pass through his head right now...

But it was one he clung to, expanded on, unraveled. One he slowly came to realize how much truth it contained.

He certainly hadn't cared this much in the past; not in any past he could remember, anyway. Could he pinpoint the exact moment he stopped giving a shit? Maybe not. But he could find himself believing it happened sometime during that flower's resets. And when _they_ came along, and their resets started, he'd reached that point where he couldn't give a single shit even if he tried.

Except, that is, during _that_ timeline.

And what was it that made him finally give a shit that time? What finally got him off his ass and try to _do_ something? It wasn't the slaughter of his people. Not his brother getting murdered more times than he could count.

No. It was nothing short of an apocalypse.

He'd known about the anomaly for longer than he could remember. That it could make timelines jump left and right, start and stop. And, of course, that it was going to bring about the end of the world, space, time, the known universe, everything. He first thought the anomaly was that soulless abomination of a flower. Then he thought it was that human that came stumbling out of the Ruins. He hadn't seen the real face of the anomaly until long after the fact, but back then, back when he was convinced it was that human...

He had adopted a certain mindset during the resets, starting sometime during the flower's, he supposed. What that mindset had basically boiled down to was, 'keep the anomaly happy'. To not directly interfere or upset the anomaly, lest he risk making it feel unsatisfied and want to take a more dark, dangerous path in the next reset. Also, to not let the anomaly know how much he knew, lest he tempted it to do something _really_ nasty and make his life even worse. That's why he didn't act until after everyone had died, and the world was on the brink of complete ruin.

...Or, maybe, that was just _another_ piss-poor excuse for how lazy and apathetic he was.

Hell if he knew anymore.

What he _did_ know was how much he didn't care. How much he couldn't get himself to care. How much, even though he knew its futility, he wanted that kid to _die_.

...So what changed?

What got him to start caring again?

......Heh.

Like _that_ was much of a mystery.

...But it certainly hadn't happened all at once, if those first few months post-freedom of him silently waiting to wake up staring at a frosty window had anything to show for it. And that definitely didn't start happening when he first met them, or during a relatively long time afterwards. Never mind the times it was intentional and deliberate; he had pulled several jerk moves on them since meeting them.

He had stalked and spied on a kid - one with trust and intimacy issues - and called it 'keeping a eye out for them'.

He had taken a barely ten-year-old child - whose parents were violent drunks - to a goddamn _bar_ and called it a lunch date.

He constantly told someone who was _suicidal_ that the ONLY reason they were still alive, that he hadn't already killed them on the spot, was because a stranger behind a door just _happened_ to ask him not to.

...Wow.

He was such a jackass.

He might not have known about their issues at the time (hell, Toriel only suspected the thing about their folks' drinking habits), but that didn't excuse his behavior in the slightest. He might as well have chucked them into the belly of the beast himself he was such an absolute _jackass_.

......And yet...

Despite it all...

_"You...mean......everything to me..."_

The kid still thought the world of him.

They looked up to him. They saw a brother in him. They felt _safe_ with him...

Being the big brother wasn't anything new to Sans. But there wasn't that much of an age difference between him and Papyrus, plus it had been years since they were children, making their relationship more a co-dependency than anything else. To have someone much, much younger than him to watch over, to depend on him...

Maybe that's why, after all the times he'd hurt and given up on them, he was so convinced they must've _hated_ him.

_"but you...you never resented us."_

But they could.

God knows how much they _could_.

He had seen it. Caught a glimpse of it. Mid-transformation, when they were reminded of their 'audience'...he saw it on their face, in their snarl, in their eyes.

How much potential they had to completely, utterly, unapologetically _loathe_ him.

They had never looked at him like that before. Not even while under Chara's possession, when the strength of their influence was at its peak. All that time, he had never sensed any real malice from that murderous megalomaniac; only a blind determination to keep pushing on, not out of any sense of right or wrong, but because they 'could' and 'had to'. Even after that mid-way point when they started wearing that broad, twisted smile...there was no hatred there.

And that scared him. Possibly even more than watching them undergo such a horrific transformation; that one glimpse of how much they could hate him _terrified_ him. God, it almost felt like there was too much hatred within them for just one person to contain.

...'Too much', huh..?

That phrase really fit them to a 'T', didn't it?

Not in the sense that they were too much to handle; god no. It was more along the lines of they _had_ too much to handle. Too much shit they've been put through, too much they've been traumatized by, too much weighing on their shoulders, too much responsibility for one person - for one _child_ \- to bear.

...Too much riding on their mortality. Too much hinging on them staying determined.

It made him very scared to think of the day when 'too much' became, well, too much. When the day would come that they...couldn't...take it anymore...

............

...They really couldn't hold a grudge to save their life, though, could they?

The potential was there, yes. God knows he gave them enough reason to, at the very least, resent him. But they'd never did. Made him wonder if they even _could_ bring themself to be even a little bitter about it.

Instead...they chose to love. To channel all that energy to hate, born from being too oft hurt, betrayed, and forsaken, into forgiveness and mercy and love...

(Now who did that remind him of?)

It really was awe-inspiring; how they chose to love instead of hate. And how great their love helped him, and the others, love them back...

Didn't it?

He could practically hear his eyelids creak he hadn't blinked in so long. Wh...Where did that come from? What's with all this second-guessing lately, huh? It wasn't like he...he...

It was then he came to another realization. One that made a certain numbness spread through his bones.

He told them he did, more than once, but only after they had said it first. He told Papyrus he did just last night (god, that conversation felt like it had transpired centuries ago at this point)...but was that only because he'd been put on the spot to deny his brother's suspicions? Had _every_ time he said it been because he felt pressured to reciprocate?

Did he...really love them?

Their relationship didn't start out perfectly (honestly, what relationship ever DID?). At best, it was pretty rocky in the beginning. It had gotten even rockier since then, especially after the first reset. When he started suspecting that they were the anomaly, that's when things really reached an all time low between them. It had stayed that way for a while - he wasn't exactly sure how long, in all honesty - never changing, until...

_"Then you should've stopped keeping promises when you had the chance."_

He had started seeing the kid in a different light from that point on. Started really paying attention to and picking up on things about them. Take their HP, for instance. Untouched by EXP or LOVE, and without taking time to get some shut-eye, they only had 20 at max; he hadn't really noticed that until relatively recently. That... _really_ wasn't a lot. The only other people he knew that had less than that were the Whimsuns and, well, himself. Anything could've killed them if they tried hard enough.

And anything and everything _did_. While he just watched from the sidelines, knowingly shirking his promise in doing so...

He truly meant what he said; never had he actually _wanted_ to keep that promise before right now. After every high and low, after all that time doing the bare minimum to uphold his responsibilities, after actively proving they had no need for his protection by becoming _that_...and he _still_ wanted nothing more than to keep his promise. Because...

Because he......

..................

...He was grateful to them, certainly. They had prevented total catastrophe, the death of everything. They had returned monsters to the surface. They had stopped the cycle of resets. They got him to start _caring_ again. But, how he felt toward them went far, far beyond that. It must have.

He considered them one of his best audiences, one of his best comedic partners, even his heir to the throne of prank master. He saw a lot of himself in them. He admired their kindness and patience, how forgiving and loving they were. He wanted to see them succeed, to see them grow, to be there to watch them grow up.

...He wanted to see them recover from all the horrible things they've been through, to live out the rest of their days unburdened by their past.

He wanted to support them through challenges they could face on their own, protect them from dangers they couldn't.

He didn't want them to grow up to be as jaded and apathetic as him.

He wanted them to come back, to see them again.

He wanted...to see their smile again...

...And that, when it came down to brass tacks...

That's what it meant to love someone.

Wasn't i-?

A sudden stab of pain in his left eye socket jerked him out of his self-psychoanalyzing fugue. That rude awakening gave him the wherewithal to make sure he fell backwards when the ground lurched.

There were six distinct yelps of shock, followed immediately by five distinct THUDs as bodies dropped like flies.

There was also a low rumbling.

"...The hell was that?" warily hissed Undyne, the only one among the group that had managed to stay on their feet, though her stance was unbalanced and shaky.

Papyrus, blinking heavily in confusion, was the first to get back up. "AN...AN EARTHQUA-?"

He was cut off by the blare of an alarm. Confusion remained, but it becamed mixed with urgency. "Dr. Alphys??"

Already scrambling to get back up, Asgore's urging doubled Alphys' efforts. "H-Hang on!"

Back on unsteady legs, the scientist re-manned the terminal before her, fingers flying across its keyboard with fiery ferocity. The answers she searched for proved to be difficult to find, for the screens on every terminal - including her own - were flashing red, synchronized perfectly with the alarm's wail. One screen in particular was flashing row after row of blood-red '9's.

The rumbling was growing stronger.

"D...Does anyone else...feel weak?"

Toriel's breathless inquiry sent out waves of realization. More than fatigue, the sensation everyone experienced was like their very life force was being drained.

Fatigue...? Draining...?

The alarm... The earthquake... The rumbling...

And then-

" _no_."

The word was heavy with the terror of recollection. It snapped everyone's attention towards the one who uttered it, but each ended up focusing on what the short skeleton - who was stiff and still as stone - was staring at.

Beyond the veil, within the machine's 'mouth', the darkness was growing.

It poured out of its containment, slow as syrup, spreading across the floor, the walls, the very air itself like a giant ink stain. The most malicious, insidious ink stain ever to exist. It had always felt like it was alive, that it had a mind of its own, but never before now had they seen it become so animated, so sentient.

So...hungry.

Everything it touched was immediately consumed until there was nothing but the black mass. Everything, even light itself, was being swallowed up by the void. The more it feasted, the more it expanded, the faster it spread out and the more it greedily devoured.

The rumbling had grown so mighty, so deep, it almost sounded like growling.

Sans was paralyzed. A history he barely remembered was repeating itself, replaying right before his eyes. The scourge of his dreams, the darkness lingering in his every nightmare; it was right there in front of him. Consuming everything, taking everything away from him.

...Noticing him.

Encroaching on him.

Stretching its infinitely caliginous maw open wide to swallow him whole-

"SANS!!!"

He felt the weight of gravity increase, right before he was dragged back across the floor.

The hold of his brother's magic was released immediately upon him being caught in Papyrus' arms. "I HARDLY THINK THIS IS THE TIME TO SPACE OUT, BROTHER!!" he heard him chastise, but there was both relief and fear in the taller skeleton's admonishment. "SNAP OUT OF IT!!"

Sans blinked rapidly, drawing in breath after shaky breath. He had been snapped out of his trance, yes, but his gaze had stayed locked on the nothingness surging at him...only to soon realize it had given up pursuit. Halted, actually, by a force that had once been invisible, but now looked like a convex wall of cloudy glass. Seemed like the veil was doing its job, insuring the integrity of the timeline by keeping the anomaly suppressed, contained, still.

Very...very still...

Too still.

The anomaly may have stopped, and so had the alarm and the rumbling, but Sans had not relaxed in the slightest. If anything, his anxiety was getting worse.

"a-alph?" he croaked, his pupils briefly shifting her way. "did- did you-?"

"I-I-I didn't do anything!" Though it sounded like she wish she had. "I m-mean, I was _starting_ to; I found a f-fail safe command for this kind of situation! B-But I didn't get a chance to activate it b-before it stopped all on its own!"

He glanced back at her, seeing sincerity in her frazzled expression. But he still wasn't pacified. The anomaly stopping on its own? That...that was illogical. That couldn't have happened. Last time, he and the doctor had scrambled frantically to activate the fail safe; only that could have made the anomaly become so still before-

His breath caught in his throat, his body going stiff and his eyelights shrinking.

That's right. The anomaly, after becoming this solid and still, had then...

"back... get back...! everyone get back!!"

Sans wrested himself out of Papyrus' arms and shot to his feet, grabbing his brother by the shoulder as he then started scrambling backwards, tugging him along with him.

"D...Do you know what this is?" asked a very concerned Toreil. "What this means??"

"it's gonna create a vacuum and implode!" he answered, quickly. "find something sturdy to hold onto, and don't let go! and whatever you do, don't let it touch you-!"

He was cut off by a deep, mighty rumbling as the darkness began to collapse in on itself. Creating a vacuum so powerful even the veil could not restrain it.

Sans felt his feet sliding across the ground as everything started being sucked in. Mercifully, he did not get pulled in too close before Papyrus grabbed hold of him, held him firm as he ducked behind one of the consoles. Undyne had done the same with Alphys, and Toriel joined Papyrus and Sans behind their console, Asgore to Alphys and Undyne's as the vacuum became stronger, and the ground began to shake.

Wait. The ground was...shaking?

He didn't recall that happening last ti-

_**KRRNCH** _

Sans' gaze shot up toward the loud, sharp noise. He immediately spotted a large, deep dent in the machine that had not been there before. Then he heard another metallic **CRUNCH** , and spotted another dent. He then heard a sort of hissing, like water vapor fuming out of a kettle, and noticed pressurized streams of steam billowing out of the patch jobs in the tubes feeding lava into the machine. Magical energy was leaking out of weak spots in the tubes feeding the magical energy of the main Core complex above. The white of this energy was getting brighter, the red glow of the lava stronger.

The shaking was getting worse. The gravitational draw of the black hole the anomaly had become was growing stronger. The sudden surge of magical energy had spread to the terminals, fed them with so much power they began to spark dangerously. Too dangerously for anyone to hide behind them anymore.

Even though these barricades had provided very little in terms of protection, it was still better than being out in the open. Without them, the vacuum's pull was more potent; even Asgore was unable to hold his ground for long. Not without summoning his trident, and plunging it as deeply as he could into the floor, anchoring it there.

Undyne and Papyrus followed his example. As he caught his ex-wife before the black hole dragged her further in, two more anchors - one a thick bone and the other a shimmering spear - were secured. But with the ceaseless tremors and the impending implosion, keeping up the integrity of those anchors - while also holding fast to each others respected companion - was draining their stamina fast.

It had become pure chaos. The lights were blinding. The sounds were deafening. The tremors were so bad it felt like the whole world itself was going to collapse. Streaks of blackness, like tears in reality itself, appearing in the air only to be sucked into the event horizon. It felt like reality itself was coming undone. And the vacuum of darkness grew stronger and stronger as its mass shrunk smaller and smaller, converging and collapsing in on its epicenter before, after a split second of stillness-

Sans could've sworn he saw light coming from _within_ it before everything went dark.

\----

Black. Blind. Soundless. Weightless. Numb.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Was this it? Was he in the rift? Was this what it was like? Or was he simply dead? He couldn't tell.

And, frankly, he had no idea which was the lesser of two evi-

"Is...Is everyone alright?"

Then Sans opened his eyes.

Everything was still dark, but not completely pitch black. He could see shapes and silhouettes within the shadows. Slowly, his other senses came back to him, the sensations of deafness and numbness draining away. And, with those gone, he could hear machinery settle, bodies stirring.

Feel the throbbing headache concentrated mostly in his left eye.

"Uuuurgh okay, sound off," he heard Undyne groan. "Make a noise if you're still alive. Alphy?"

"H...Here..." woozily answered her wife.

"Asgore?"

There was a moan so deep and rumbly it could only belong to the former king.

"Toriel?"

"I am here," stated the former queen.

"Pap?"

"PRESENT!" announced Papyrus, then added a soft, "SORRY!" when his loud voice set off a round of hisses and moans.

"Sans? You there?"

Sans almost didn't feel well enough to make even a grunt. He let out a weak chuckle nonetheless. "you ain't gettin' rid of me that easily, cap'n."

Undyne scoffed, but it was good-natured. "And I make six. Now that we know everyone's still here, is anyone injured?"

His phalanges felt a little tingly as Sans reached up, and gently massaged his skull. "got a splitting headache, but other than that, just a little... _shaken_."

There was a moment of silence. Then several groans resounded (with only one breathless giggle thrown into the mix).

"REALLY, SANS? _REALLY_?"

"aw, c'mon. i know you're smiling."

"I AM NOT! ...ALRIGHT MAYBE I AM! BUT IT IS A PITY SMILE!"

There was a sound of igniting embers, then everything became bathed in the gentle orange glow of Toriel's fire magic. It was not enough to completely banish the darkness, even when it was added to by one of Asgore's flame orbs, but it was enough for everyone to see each other lying on the ground, see each other's faces, see how shaken each of them were.

See especially the looks on the faces of the former king and queen.

"Woah, you two okay?" asked Undyne, noticing their expressions as she was easing Alphys off her middle.

"YOU LOOK VERY UNWELL, YOUR MAJEST- TORIEL AND ASGORE," commented Papyrus, who had been laying on top of his brother. "THOUGH, OF COURSE, IT MIGHT JUST BE THE WAY THE LIGHT IS SHINING ON YOUR FACES. DO YOU FEEL SICK?"

Neither of the former royals gave an immediate answer. Expression unchanging, Toriel eventually remarked. "No, I...do not feel ill, exactly. Just..."

She brought a paw to her chest, clutching tightly the front of her lilac blouse. "... _Strange_..."

Asgore was clutching at his chest, too. It was in the exact same place Toriel was holding hers. "So...do I..." he muttered in agreement, the light in his palm flickering.

"None of those...black streak things touched you, did they?" Undyne pressed.

Both Toriel and Asgore shook their heads. There was another moment of careful study of the two former monarchs before Undyne asked, "So...anyone have any idea why it got so dark? Or what the actual _hell_ all that was?"

Sans felt several gazes flick his way. "...dunno what to tell ya, undyne," he answered, his eyes staring at the darkened ceiling. "can't really say i know exactly what happened."

"And yet you knew it was going to explode?" she probed, suspiciously.

" _implode_ ," he clarified. "but, really, what i could remember from the last time this happened stops here."

It really was the truth. A surge of adrenaline might have made him recall what he had forgotten (plus it had probably made him unaware of how great the pain in his left socket had grown), but that surge was fading. Not to mention it was hard to think about anything other than the pain pounding in his skull.

"So...we cannot know what happened?" Toriel wondered, massaging her chest a little more before releasing it. "At all?"

"I...I m-might," interjected Alphys. "Could I, uh, g-get some light over here, please?"

The light shifted. Sans turned his head and looked toward where he heard Alphys's voice, and saw her pulling herself toward the console she had been at before. She fished out a screwdriver from her lab coat pocket and used it to open a panel near the bottom of the terminal. He didn't see what all she did then, but after hearing the crackle of electricity, he did see one of the screens booting up. Alphys closed the panel, hoisted herself upright, then entered a series of commands.

Something popped up on the screen. Whatever it was, it made the former Royal Scientist become still as stone.

"Oh..." Her voice was small, yet filled to the brim with shock. "Oh, my..."

"Alphys..?" Undyne grunted as she forced herself into a kneel. "Babe, what is it?"

Alphys didn't answer her wife. After a few frantic key pounds, there was a faint _vrrr_ -ing, then a pale light started shining down from somewhere up above.

Alphys stared up at these lights, blankly and unblinking. "Oh my god..."

Sans blinked to adjust to the sudden brightness, then looked at Alphys more intently. "alph? care to clue us i-?"

"OH MY GOD!"

Though he was using his 'inside voice', Papyrus was still very loud in everyone's suddenly sensitive ears. Before anyone could admonish him, he continued, a gloved finger pointing out in front of him, "LOOK AT THAT!"

Somewhat begrudgingly, several gazes followed his finger. What they saw made any irk they felt completely drain away.

"Woah," murmured Undyne. "The lava...holy shit..."

The floes of magma had ceased flowing. The basin it had pooled in was empty. All that remained was caked and black and cold.

"Oh my _god_..." Alphys kept repeating, each utterance more heavy with realization than the previous. " _Oh my god_...!"

A twinge of impatience was in his voice as Sans urged, "hey, alph? it really sounds like you're onto somethin' there; ya mind lettin' us know, too-"

"The Core's been tapped dry! Completely tapped dry!!"

Before any Q and A could begin, before the words could really sink in, Alphys clarified, "W-Well I mean _almost_ completely 'cause if it _was_ completely tapped out then I couldn't have activated those lights and the system wouldn't have booted back up and and and oh my god I knew there were protocols for this situation but but but OH MY GOD-!"

"Babe, BABE, slow down!" Undyne stumbled to her feet and took Alphys' shoulders, turned her so that they faced each other. "I can tell your mind's going a hundred miles an hour right now, but could you ease off the pedal a little? So those of us not anywhere near as smart as you have a chance to understand what you're talking about?"

Alphys, her eyes big behind her glasses, took several deep, huffing breaths, which slowed the longer she kept staring at her wife's face. Eventually, she gulped and adjusted her glasses, looking around at the sea of confusion staring at her before beginning her explanation, carefully.

"I...I-I'm able to monitor three things f-from these terminals: the status of the Core, the status of the machine, and the status of the volcano. My first priority w-was to check the Core's status b-because, well, sudden blackout. And the Core's supposed to be a self-sustaining source of limitless energy, y'know; blackouts _shouldn't_ happen. Theoretically. Of course, everyone who's ever worked at the Core have memorized protocols for if a blackout _does_ happen, but the odds of that had always been slim to none; the volcano erupting has always been far more likely!

"A-Anyway! When I realized the Core was without power, I initialized one of those protocols, which was to see if any of the auxiliary power was still available. There was. Barely. Certainly not enough to provide emergency power throughout the whole Underground - which is pretty much what it was meant for - but it was enough to give us some light down here. But the rest of it, all of the energy the Core had been creating..."

Her shoulders went slack. Her gaze went past Undyne, toward the center of the platform upon everyone stood.

"The machine...used it all up. Completely sucked the Core dry."

Sans followed her gaze. What he saw made his expression go blank, and the numbness of shock completely smother the pain in his skull.

Upon first seeing it, the machine had already looked old and decrepit and in need of repair and/or upgrades. Now...now it looked like a great hunk of metal that _might_ have been something else at one point, but certainly nothing even _close_ to an even partially-functioning time machine. If the destruction caused by the monitor monolith topside had been bad, it was a toppled tower of kiddie blocks compared to the sight laying before them.

The massive tubes that had fed the Core's energy into it were completely ripped apart, as thought they were as fragile as butterfly wings. The tubes that had pumped lava looked as thought the magma had completely melted through them, rendering them completely useless. The machine itself looked melted, too. The metal was warped where it wasn't dented in, full of holes where trails of melted steel trailed down like candle wax. It no longer resembled anything close to a skull; just a gargantuan lump of ingot ready to be formed into something else. Before, it smelled like rust and lava. Now, it smelled like overheated metal and ash.

The anomaly hadn't been the only thing that collapsed in on itself.

The machine had, too.

There was speechless silence as the sight was taken in, the situation contemplated. Sans' slippers barely even made any noise as he, unwarily, shuffled closer to it, stopping as if on instinct before some unseen barrier. Then he lifted a hand and, hesitantly, extended it forward.

Each of the six generators lining the path to the machine had exploded in such a way, it seemed, that not a trace of debris was left behind. These generators had powered something apart from the machine, something that kept the rift the machine opened contained. Something that kept anyone made mostly of magic from safely coming into contact with.

With the generators gone, there was no veil for Sans' fingers to pass through. There was no sense of being pulled apart or coming undone. There was still darkness in the opening that once resembled the open mouth of a skull, but that's all it was. It was not alive. It was not squirming or writhing or threatening to devour everything.

It was just a shadow.

"A-And, it's not j-just the Core," Alphys continued to explain. "The volcano; according to history, it's b-been dormant since even before the monsters were sealed underground. W-When a volcano is dormant, it means it _can_ erupt, but hasn't. If I remember correctly, e-even though the potential's always been there, not once has it erupted in the duration of the monsters' imprisonment until their freedom. But...but now..."

Her slow, awed head shake was practically audible. "It's...n-not just this vein; _all_ of the lava throughout the Underground h-has had all the geothermic energy sucked out of it. The Mt. Ebott volcano...is now extinct."

Sans dropped his arm. It fell limply back to his side.

"The machine...did that?" muttered Asgore.

"Holy shit," Undyne repeated.

"WELL!" Papyrus stated, bluntly. "AT LEAST WE NO LONGER HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT ANY ERUPTIONS FROM NOW ON!"

A few noises of distracted agreement concurred with him. Another moment of quiet contemplation passed before Toriel inquired. "Do you...know what caused this consumption of energy, Dr. Alphys?"

"I wish I did," Alphys reluctantly admitted. "E-Everything cascaded out of control before I could find out. All I know, for certain, i-is that it wasn't triggered by something I did. By anything any of us here did. So it...it must've been something-"

"hey, alph?"

The interruption caused every head to turn Sans' way. He was still facing the ruins of the machine, but he was slowly turning his head back to look at the others behind him.

"you said you're able to monitor three things from those consoles, right?" His gaze rested soley on Alphys, his shoulders tense and his expression tight. "wouldja mind tellin' us what the status of the machine is?"

Alphys held his gaze a moment longer before turning around, a renewed fervor in her typing as she imputed a set of commands into the terminal. She was cut off a second later by an angry **BEEP** , and something red popping up on the screen that looked like an error message. She typed some more, only to be interrupted again by another **BEEP** and error message. Even more typing followed, but she was met with the same result every time. Still she persisted, and kept persisting until, finally, something popped up that wasn't accompanied by a noise of protest.

Shaking hands drew away from the terminal. Eyes grew wide behind a pair of glasses.

"Everything's...offline." A voice, low and grave, announced her findings. "Nothing's responding. The machine...is completely inoperable."

Mixed were the feelings that were initially spawned from this information. Then the full context of what this meant started to really sink in, and filled everyone with-

_pap       pap       pap       pap_

The soft, almost inaudible sound quelled the emotional tidal wave before it began. In the quiet following in its wake, the sound was easier to hear, easier to determine what it was. And it was...

Footsteps?

Slow footfalls, coming closer. Not coming down the pipe walkway leading to the machine's platform, but...rather...

Six heads turned back toward the ruined machine. Five and a half pairs of eyes focused on the warped opening that used to resemble a mouth. The sound was growing louder, closer.

A small foot stepped out of the shadows.

A smaller hand gripped the opening's edge.

With a breathy grunt, it pulled the rest of the body forward into the light.

The figure had their head down, their thin, tiny body clothed in garments stretched out and threadbare. Their clothes were barely disturbed with every quiet, shallow breath they took. The figure tried to take another step forward, but stopped halfway, their shoulder leaning against the gap's edge and sliding down it a few inches. Their hand released the metal, fell limply to their side as their whole body slumped, the whole of their weight now supported by the side of the opening.

Everything was quiet. Everything was still. Then the figure lifted their head.

Long strands of brown hair shifted away from their face. A familiar pair of eyes peered out from between those locks. And there it was; the kind, gentle, loving smile Sans wanted - _yearned_ \- to see again.

Being a skeleton, he was naturally predispositioned to be a constant smiler, even when his mood reflected otherwise. The smile that stretched across his face now felt the most natural one he'd ever worn in his entire lifetime.

Oh, yeah. No doubt about it.

He loved that little rascal.

" _frisk_!"

 

> _writer's note:[listening recommendation](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OVimErpiTKY)_

 

He led the pack that then rushed toward the kid, every single one of them wearing smiles full of love (and some tears of relief). But he wasn't going to be outpaced by any of them; not this time. He was going to be the first to reach them, to scoop into his arms, to give them the biggest hug they'd ever-

He skidded to a halt several feet from his goal, stopping so suddenly several of the others ran into him and nearly toppled him over. And what had made him halt? Made the smile on his face falter? It had been Frisk, who had lifted their hand and held it out in front of them in a 'stop' gesture.

'Stop'? Why'd he have to stop? There was no reason to-unless. Unless...there were still traces of the rift left. And coming any closer would have surely-

Sans almost smacked himself when he realized the situation wasn't quite so dire.

"...r-right," he stammered, voice a little strained. "right, o-of course. ya need a minute, yeah?"

Frisk's head barely moved up and down in a small, grateful nod. They lifted their hand to their face, their head drooping to meet it, and started pushing their hair off of it.

"A-And who can blame you?" Alphys commented, voice choked with tears. "No offense, b-but you look like you've b-been put through the wringer one time too many, aheheheh."

"Just one?!" Undyne scoffed, no doubt trying to come off as someone who hadn't just been completely beside herself with worry. "Try at least one _hundred_!"

"Oh, Frisk..." Asgore sighed, soaking the tears out of his fur with his shirt sleeve. "We were so...so _worried_..."

"I HOPE YOU'RE PROUD, FRISK!" Papyrus demanded, his nose hole dribbling. "YOU * _SNIFF_ * ALMOST GAVE ME A HEART ATTACK! AND I DON'T EVEN HAVE ONE!! ANATOMICALLY SPEAKING!!"

"We were _all_ worried," Toriel stated, somehow staying calm and patient despite the yearning in her voice. "But, please, Frisk has asked us for some space; their ordeal has left them quite exhausted, can you not tell?"

No one was saying they didn't; it was as clear as day. They looked too tired to even speak, like it was taking every ounce of effort they had left just to stay standing (even with the machine doing most of the supporting on that front). They couldn't even keep the hair out of their face they must've been so exhausted.

So everyone stayed put. No matter how badly they wanted to do otherwise, they let Frisk be, let them have a moment of solitude before welcoming them back into their waiting embraces. The wait was agonizing, but not nearly as agonizing as when they weren't there at all.

And that comforted Sans, warded off some of the impatience. What brought him more comfort still was... _something_ he sensed different about the kid. A certain...calmness, he supposed. Like, their breaths were still shallow and raspy, but at least they weren't hacking up a lung anymore. Their skin still had an anemic paleness about it, but they weren't barfing their guts out anymore either. They were still afflicted by an unknown illness, but...at least they didn't look absolutely miserable about it? And there was still a slight tremble in their limbs, now bare due to the fact that their sleeves were in tatters, but those shakes weren't nearly as bad as they once were.

...Huh. Now that he thought about it, he'd never seen Frisk without a long-sleeved shirt on before. Not even during the hot and humid summer months, or when they went for a swim; he'd never seen Frisk's bare arms past their wrists. He never brought it up, but figured there must've been a reason for that.

And the most probable reason was now staring him in the face. Where had all those scars come from? How old were they? Why did some of them sorta...look like older versions of the marks on their chest..?

"kid...what happened to you?"

The words left him before he could stop them. Was he asking about the marks on their arms, or just in general? He wasn't entirely sure. And no response from Frisk indicated they didn't know which he was asking about, either.

"...If...If you feel ready to talk, my child-" Toriel sounded hesitant, but she, too, could no longer resist the urge to sate curiosity. "-please, could you tell us what happened while you were gone?"

One by one, everyone else presented their questions. "W-Were you able to meet with Dr. Gaster?" was Alphys'.

"What did he want?" was Asgore's.

"He didn't try to do anything to you, did he?" was Undyne's, issued with a growl.

Even when offered a pause to answer their inquiries, Frisk did not. They just kept trying, in ever increasing vain, to get the hair out of their face.

"...WH...WHERE'S FLOWEY?"

The question hit Sans like an anvil from the sky. Perhaps it was his initial joy in seeing them again that made him not see it, but he sure as hell noticed it now.

The very distinct lack of claws, horns, and fangs. The lack of snarling or growling in their breath. How they were back to being shorter than him, smaller than him. No longer overflowing with the power and presence of an all-mighty god. No longer transformed into something unfamiliar and beastly due to an extreme surplus of foreign determination coursing through their veins, attached with it a consciousness of dubious morality (or lack thereof).

...Where _was_ that little abomination, anyway..?

With the way they perked up, Sans got the feeling Frisk had been waiting for someone to bring that up. They moved their hand away from their face - it fell and hung limply down at their side - and smiled warmly at the group. Slowly, their head turned toward their left, eyes peering back into the shadows their other arm was still immersed in. There was a moment of silence before more slow footsteps echoed out of the-

Wait... _more_ footsteps?

There was no time to fully contemplate this before Frisk brought their other hand forward, revealing that they were holding something in it.

It was another hand. More a paw, actually, which was covered in soft white fur and holding theirs like a best friend would. Following it was an arm, covered by a long, yellow-and-green stripped sleeve. Then a bare foot, covered in the same soft, white fur as the hand, stepped forward, the hem of long blue pants covering everything above the ankle. Then the other foot stepped out, followed completely after by the figure they belonged to.

The monster was as tall as Frisk, though it was hard to tell due to the fact neither of them were standing straight. The monster had their white, furry head down, muzzle pointed toward the ground and long, floppy ears hanging in front of their shoulders. The monster's eyes were closed, but as they took in a long, deep, fortifying breath, the lifted their head and opened their eyes, only to let out a squeak of discomfort before squinting and throwing their other arm in front of their face.

"Golly," the monster remarked, the youthful innocence in their voice confirming that they were, indeed, a child. "I don't remember it being _this_ bright. But, then again, I guess anywhere would be super bright after being 'there' for as long as we have, huh? Ha ha ha."

Frisk agreed with a breathless snicker, their smile widening a fraction.

"Okay, gimme a minute." The young monster, the young boy, lowered his arm a little, blinking rapidly to adjust to the soft light in the room beyond the hollow he emerged from. A minute later, though he was still blinking a lot, he dropped his arm completely. "Okay, I'm used to it. I think. Yeah. That's better."

The boy gave Frisk a sheepish smile; Frisk returned it with a silly one of their own. Then, remembering their audience, both children looked forward, only one of their smiles remaining. The hand holding Frisk's trembled a little.

"H...Howdy, everyone," the monster greeted, meekly, with a small wave. "My...my name is-"

" _Asriel_?"

The boy tensed at the word, the fur around his neck standing on end. Moving as though his joints were choked with rust, he turned his head, focused his gaze on a pair of monsters that looked a lot like each other, and a lot like himself. An awkward silence passed as the boy regarded the pair, and the pair regarded the boy, all three of their expressions completely blank.

"...Mom. Dad."

The boy's hands started trembling again.

"Mom...Dad..."

The tremors spread throughout his whole body.

" _Mom_...D- _Dad_...!"

A whole platoon of emotions breaking out across his face, tears springing to and streaming from his eyes like burst pipes, Asriel released Frisk's hand and sprinted toward his parents.

"MOOOOM!!! DAAAAD!!!"

He collided into them, one arm wrapping around one of their legs as he sobbed into their middles. "Mom! Dad! Dad! Mom! Th-This is real! This is really happening!! I-I'm happy! I'm _actually_ happy!! I'm really, really, REALLY happy to see you again!!"

Anything he said after this was smothered by either his sobs, or him rubbing his face across Asgore and Toriel's stomachs. This continued on for an uncomfortable amount of time before either of the former monarchs responded to the child before them.

"Asriel..?" Toriel repeated, softly, almost dreamily. "As...riel...!"

Then, an emotional platoon of her own shattering the blank canvase on her face, tears leaked from her eyes as she dropped to one knee and wrapped her arms around her child.

"Asriel! ASRIEL!!" She sobbed loudly and without a care for how un-queenly she looked right now. "M-My son..! My _son_!!"

Mother and child sobbed into each other's embraces. Those not completely losing themselves in this tidal wave of emotion watch in silent stupor before Papyrus, blankly, asked, "AND...THIS IS..?"

"It's the prince." After muttering this, Undyne, eye wide, ran both hands over the crown of her head and restated, much more loudly this time, "Oh my god _it's the PRINCE_!"

"THE _PRINCE_?!?!" Papyrus' jaw practically dropped to the ground.

"Oh my god." Alphys' nearly did, too.

Sans remained silent, eyes wide with shock.

"Is...I-Is it really you, Asriel?" Pulling back a little to wipe some of the tears and snot away, Toriel tightly gripped her son's shoulders, diligently looked him over. "Are you...h-have you truly returned to us, my son??"

"I h-have, Mom," Asriel answered, hiccuping in his attempt to stop crying and wipe his tears away, too. "Yeah, I'm...As- _real_ as it ge-"

Asriel went stiff and silent, then groaned loudly and smacked his palm against his forehead. "Uuuugh I can't believe I just did that." He looked back over his shoulder at Frisk, face scrunched up in a pout. "I blame you for this!"

Frisk playfully stuck their tongue out a him. Asriel stuck his back out at them in retaliation. Then both children snickered as though sharing an inside joke.

"... _How_..?"

The tremble in his father's voice made Asriel turn back around, in time to see Asgore finally break out of his initial shock, and drop heavily to one knee. A large, shaking palm cupped Asriel's cheek, touching it so gently it was as though he would shatter like glass if too much pressure was applied.

"How are you here..?" Asgore murmured, tears starting to pool in his dinner plate-wide eyes. "How are you alive? We...We saw your soul _shatter_. I held your _dust_ in my hands...!"

Asgore covered his mouth with his other hand, choking on a sob. The pain of memory flashed across Toriel's face, somberness replacing her joy. Asriel's expression dropped into one more somber, more nervous than both his parents' combined.

"That, um..." Asriel shifted uneasily, eyes looking everywhere except directly at anyone's faces. "That's...a long story. A-And hard to explain. And really... _really_ not that pretty-"

"OH MY GOD. OH. MY. _GOD_."

Realization was thick as tar in Papyrus' voice. It crept slowly into his expression as he looked between Frisk and Asriel, studying the children with sharp scrutiny as the puzzle pieces fell into place, the word in the Junior Jumble finally stood out.

A wild, googly-eyed expression appeared on his face as he flung his hands to the side of his head and practically screamed, "OH MY GOD DO YOU MEAN _FLOWEY_  WAS _THE PRINCE_?!?!!"

Frisk's smile dampened as the revelation spread like wildfire.

" _What?_ "

"Oh my _god_."

"..."

Asgore's hand pulled away, the other uncovering his gaping mouth. Toriel retracted her arms, her expression just as full of bewildered horror as her ex-husband's.

"Is...is this true?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper. "My son...were you..?"

Asriel had taken to grabbing and tugging at one of his ears, eyes pointed down at his curling toes.

"K...Kinda?" His voice was hoarse and shaky. "I-I mean, yes? But I wasn't...I d-didn't...I... _I_..!"

He started to sob again, covering his eyes with his hands as he wailed, "I'm sorry! I'm really, really sorry!! And I really mean that this time!! I _can_ mean it this time!! Because I have my soul again I can actually feel sorry and feel bad about everything and _feel_ things again and- and- and-!"

His sobbing worsened to the point that all he could do was cry out every conceivable way to say "I'm sorry" he could think of.

"Oh, _Asriel_ -!" Toriel threw her arms back around him, maternal instinct to comfort and care chasing everything else out of her mind. "Shh, shh shh..." She began rubbing his back. "There, there. It is alright, my son. It is alri-"

"No it isn't!" Asriel loudly protested, voice cracking. "It really, really isn't! I _knew_ what I was doing! I knew it was wrong! But I kept doing it! A-And I excused it all on the fact I didn't have a soul-!!"

He was cut off as Asgore's arms circled around both him and his mother, pulling them into a big, tight hug.

"That doesn't matter right now," he said, firmly, even with the tremble still in his voice. "You are here, you are alive; that's all that matters right now."

"You have...been through a lot," Toriel gently observed. "We can see that. Just as we can see how uncomfortable you are with talking about it. So, for now...let us just enjoy our reunion. Alright?"

Asriel didn't raise any more arguments. He just allowed himself to melt into his parents' embraces, smothered his wails with their shoulders.

"OH, NO!" Papyrus clapped his hands over his mouth, looking ashamed. "I BLURTED OUT THE PRINCE'S SECRET IDENTITY WITHOUT PRIOR CONFIRMATION! I MADE HIM SUPER UPSET AND UNHAPPY! PLEASE, ACCEPT MY MOST HUMBLEST OF APOLOGIES, YOUR HIGHNESS!!"

Undyne leaned over to Alphys, keeping a dubious eye on the pile of embracing royals. "Did you know anything about this, babe?"

Alphys was too lost in thought to give any response. Then she whispered, "Holy _shit_ ," as realization dawned on her face. She just barely had the wherewithal to tack on a "-take mushrooms" in recollection of the young ears among present company.

Undyne, the scowl on her face softening, let out a low sigh and ran a hand over her head. "Looks like _both_ of you have a lot of explaining to do. But, yeah. That can wait for a while. Until you've got it all sorted out and you're good and ready to talk-"

"your soul."

A few eyes looked Sans' way. His own were focused on the back of Asriel's head, traces of suspicion in them. "how...how do you have a soul again?"

Toriel's head shot up. Through the tear stains, her expression was sharp and disapproving. "Sans. Please," she warned. "It has been firmly established that no one is to hound my son with any probing or uncomfortable questions at this time-"

"It's okay, Mom." Asriel squirmed until Toriel and Asgore loosened their grips, then stepped back and rubbed his nose with his shirt sleeve. Sniffling, he gave his parents a meek yet earnest smile. "That's...actually the one part I'm okay with sharing right now."

Toriel and Asgore still looked unsure, sharing their concerns through quick looks at the other, but relented. Each kept one hand on one of their son's shoulders as he took a deep breath, after stealing a very nervous glance at Sans, and looked down at his feet.

"The void- o-or the rift, or the Absolute, or whatever it's called- actually, 'the End of Time' was my favorite. Anyway! The void is (was?) like a...a universal gateway to every moment in time. For anyone with enough determination, that is. Frisk and I-" He cringed a little. "-we were able to go all the way back to _that_ day. The day I... And that one moment, that one sliver of a moment before my soul... With our determination, we..."

He looked unsure what to do with his hands, or his words.

"We... _copied_ it."

Six expressions simultaneously went blank.

"You...you what?"

His hands finally settling over his chest, Asriel looked back up at his father, a look on his face like he couldn't believe it, either. "With the power of our combined determination, we made a perfect replica of my soul."

Sans stiffened. This was all starting to sound...vaguely familiar. His gaze wandered to where Frisk was still standing, and Frisk, catching his eye, smiled knowingly and waggled their eyebrows at him.

...And here he though he had stopped underestimating DETERMINATION.

"W-WOWIE! A PERFECT COPY OF YOUR SOUL!" Papyrus' hands moved away from his mouth and onto his cheeks. "THAT'S STUPENDOUSLY AMAZING, YOUR HIGHNESS!!"

A slight blush rose in Asriel's cheeks.

"So you...you have _two_ souls now?!" Undyne exclaimed, an almost envious gleam in her eye. "Wicked!!"

"N-No that, th-that would create a paradox," interjected Alphys, nervously adjusting her glasses. "As w-would just extracting his s-soul from that moment." She paused, then gave Asriel a look. "R-R-Right?"

He gave her a nod of confirmation. "We wanted to avoid that, too. Which is why, after we copied my soul, we left the one behind to...y'know."

"And you returned to us with the other," Asgore concluded, a look on his face as though he was only acting like he knew what he was talking about.

Asriel nodded. Sans just kept gaping at Frisk.

"And is this- this 'copy' stable?" Toriel began frisking Asriel in a fussy, motherly way. "You still have everything, yes? Nothing out of place or-"

"Mom MOM yes!" Asriel shooed her worried hands away. "Everything's all here and where it should be! The copy we replicated was so perfect we could have-" He paused, a deeply thoughtful look wrinkling his young face. "Actually, I don't remember if my soul, right here, is the original or the copy. Do you, Frisk?" He glanced back at them in time to see them shrug. "...Well, that's okay. So long as the universe doesn't explode, y'know?"

Alphys made a noise of distress and woozily held her head in her hands. Maybe the 'universe' hadn't exploded, but she looked like her mind had. "Oh my _gooooooddddd_...."

Asriel chuckled in sympathy as Undyne massaged her wife's shoulder. "Y-Yeah, I know. I can...I can barely keep my head wrapped around it all, either. It was..."

A bewildered smile stretched across his face as he ran a paw through the tuff of fur atop his head. "It was _nuts_. So much happened that I don't even know how to put into words; I bet the doctor could've explained it all better than I co-OH!"

He clapped his hands over his mouth. He looked surprised. Then, deeply embarrassed.

"O-Oh, no." Red standing out beneath his white fur, he sheepishly, apologetically looked back at Frisk. "I ruined the surprise, didn't I?"

Frisk gave him a patient smile. Sans couldn't help but cock a brow in skepticism. "heh, and bringin' the prince of monsters back to life _wasn't_ the surprise?"

All heads were turned towards the kid. The kid's turned, slowly, stopping to stare, very purposefully and pointedly, at not just Sans, but also Papyrus. They smiled at them before looking over their right shoulder, back into the shadows behind them. They wearily brought a hand up, finger pointed in a 'gimme a second' gesture, before turning and staggering back into the darkness.

Sans wondered what that look was for as he heard the rustle of fabric come from inside the hollow. What kind of surprise were they about to spring on-

"Please...be gentle. I have not had this much...physicality...in a very...very long time..."

The voice was soft. Unobtrusive. Thin and wispy as cobwebs.

It wasn't Frisk's.

 

**Part II**

 

Fabric was rustled some more. Sounded like someone was getting back onto their feet. And the shuffling footsteps and dizzy moan that immediately followed made it sound like that someone had gotten back up too quickly.

"...And legs." The thin, wispy voice sounded higher up than before. "Legs are...another asset I have been...lacki _oohh_..." More shuffling, more rustling. Then a breathless, "Th...Thank you...little one."

_"Little one, what are you doing out of bed?"_

_"Don't worry, little one. You'll get the hang of it soon enough."_

_"There, there, little one. It was only a bad dream. I'm here, now. I'm here..."_

Perhaps it was because it sounded so rusty from disuse. Perhaps it was because it didn't have the canned effect of a recording warping it. Perhaps it was because it wasn't marred or distorted by static. Perhaps it was due to the fact that a fatal accident had stricken any previous memory of it had from history.

Whatever the cause, the voice had not been immediately recognized. Not until the person it had first bestowed that term of endearment upon heard it.

_n...no **way**..._

Shuffling footsteps drew slowly closer. Then a bone-white hand, a perfectly circular hole carved out of its palm, wrapped its long, thin fingers around the hollow's edge before the rest of the body emerged from the shadows.

The figure was lanky and tall. Taller than Sans, certainly, yet not quite as tall as Papyrus. They were clothed in black dress pants, a white turtleneck, and a long black coat. Their head was smooth and ovular; it sorta looked like it was made of flawless white marble, aside from the two cracks - one running jagged from their half-closed right eye, the other running straight down the left all the way to their mouth - that is.

Frisk walked beside this figure, this monster, with their hand holding the other hole-y one on their small shoulder in support. Actually, it looked more like they were supporting each other, though the undeniable difference in height between the two made it look a little awkward. The monster stumbled forward clumsily, shoes clacking against the floor, as if they had just gotten up from sitting a long time and their legs had gone numb.

There was a dazed look on the monster's - the skeleton's(?) - face. It became even more dazed as they staggered into the light, white eyelights shrinking into pinpricks before they winced, their eyelids shutting tight.

"Y...You were right, my prince," the old monster remarked, breathlessly. "It certainly is...brighter than I expected..."

"I know, right?" agreed Asriel with an innocent giggle.

The old monster eased their - _his_ \- eyelids open, blinking rapidly to adjust to the light. Even after adjusting, he still looked disoriented. Standing there, his gaze swept over the scene before him - catching no one else's - slowly, languidly. It traveled along an unseen line beyond where everyone stood, back around to the machine he'd emerged from, and all the way up to the unseen ceiling far above. It stayed there for a while before lowering, staring thoughtfully at his hand still gripping the hollow's edge.

"I..." His fingers traced along a crack, then he brought his hand close to his face, staring at the rust on his fingertips. "I never dreamed...seeing my 'magnum opus' in ruins would...would make me feel so...so..."

He rubbed his thumb against his fingertips. A ghost of a smile twitched at his mouth. "...Relieved."

"...Wing Dings."

He flinched at Asgore's voice. He whipped his head around and stared at him and his ex as though just realizing they'd been there the whole time. He didn't look all that disoriented anymore; he looked panicked.

"Y-Your Majesties!" he stammered, straightening immediately to full height. He then bowed in respect for his King and Queen-

**BO-O-O-ONG**

-and slammed his forehead straight into the top of the opening with the sound of a gong.

Dr. Gaster looked even more disoriented than before. He teetered for a moment before staggering backwards and collapsing. He almost brought Frisk down with him, but they managed to hold their ground.

There was a moment of quiet, then Asriel loudly snorted. He covered his mouth with his hands to stop any more snickers from escaping; even Frisk was struggling to keep a straight face.

"I-I'm sorry; we shouldn't be laughing," he apologized through his fingers. "B-But it- you gotta admit that it's a _little_ funny. Ha ha ha..."

Dr. Gaster said nothing, his breaths sharp and gasping and his free hand clutching his forehead. The longer he stayed silent, the more nervous Asriel started looking. All laughter had ceased, until a breathy, unsure chuckle sneaked in between the gasps.

"I...suppose you're right, Your Highness," softly admitted the doctor. "To think I'd...miss pain this much..."

He smiled, somewhat bittersweetly, the rest of his expression nigh unreadable. "It is...hilarious."

Asriel pressed his lips together, firmly, looking like he didn't know how to respond to this. Frisk's smile turned a little uncomfortable.

"Um, a-anyway!" Asriel shook his head and donned a smile. "Are you okay, Doctor? Do you need any help? Hold on; I'll-"

He had barely taken a step forward when two hands grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back. "Whuh? Mom, Dad, what're you-?"

He fell silent as he looked up at his parents' faces, the amount of alarm and suspicion in their expressions on the same level.

"Frisk." Toriel's voice was tight. Her eyes were ablaze and glued on the slumped figure beside her other child. "Come here."

Asriel looked back and forth between his parents and Dr. Gaster, who had froze like a deer in headlights, panic rising in his face. "I-It's okay, Mom! He's not- He isn't gonna do anyth-"

"Listen to your mom, Frisk." There was a growl in Undyne's voice, a spear in one hand, and a limp Alphys in the other arm (seemed she had surpassed her limit for daily surprises, and had fainted out of the shock). She was also staring at Gaster, though glaring was far more accurate. "Get over here. _Now_."

Frisk didn't budge. Gaster, panic rising into his expression, tried to remove his arm from around Frisk's shoulders. But Frisk kept it there, holding him firmly in place. Something else rose in the doctor's expression, along with more panic, as he looked at them. Something...gentle.

"U-Undyne, please, he won't-"

"Step away from the child, Doctor," warned Asgore, a scowl unfitting of his fluffy exterior warping his face. " _Now_. Or you will face severe consequences."

"Dad, _please_...!"

Gaster's gaze flicked between each scowling face, panic and fear written all over his. He looked desperately at Frisk, tried once again to tug his arm out of their grasp. But Frisk would not yield, nor would they look him in the eye. Grimacing, he looked down between his legs and shut his eyes. He started shaking.

"...Alright." The spear in Undyne's hand glowed brighter. "Looks like we're doing this the hard wa-"

"NO!!"

Asriel wrested himself free of Toriel and Asgore's iron grips, dashed forward a few steps, then turned toward his parents and Undyne and threw his arms open wide. He had stopped directly between them and where Frisk and Gaster were.

"Don't hurt him! Please!!" the young prince pleaded, his stance firm yet his arms trembling. "Frisk didn't go through all this trouble to bring him back  _just_ so you all could attack him like this!!!"

Asriel's words, along with his actions, momentarily stupefied the others. Then, almost simultaneously, realization dawned on their faces.

"...My child, you..." Toriel looked back to Frisk, eyes the size of dinner plates. "Everything you did...was to bring Dr. Gaster back..?"

"A-And me," Asriel added, meekly, under his breath.

"...You're really that surprised, Toriel?" asked Undyne, sounding exasperated. "That sounds like a very 'Frisk' thing to do, don't you think?"

Toriel looked surprised. She looked from Undyne back to Frisk, who was still avoiding her gaze, then let out a sigh and lifted her hand to massage the wrinkles out of her brow. "Indeed. It certainly does."

"...Irregardless..." Asgore was still scowling at Gaster, though not as intently as before. "This doesn't mean we can overlook his... _questionable_ past actions. After all he's done...Asriel, Frisk, you cannot expect us to so easily-"

"What about after all _you've_ done?"

His expression had darkened. His tone had become low and dangerous. His tremors had strengthened. "What about after all _I'VE_ done?!"

Several flinched. No one more so than Toriel and Asgore. "A...Asriel-"

"How hypocritical can you get?!" Asriel scowled/grimaced at those before him, angry tears leaking from his eyes and dampening his fur. "You _literally_ just found out that _I_ was the soulless abomination that _reveled_ in tearing Frisk to bloody pieces over and over and over again! And you were so quick to let me off the hook for all the terrible things I've done _just_ because I said I was sorry?!?"

More flinches. Asgore in particular looked as though he was just slapped in the face. " _Son_..."

Asriel paused, then a grim chuckle slithered out of the wide, cold sneer his mouth had twisted into. Now _that_ was definitely unfitting of his exterior.

"And I was _terrible_ ," he said, darkly, echoes of Flowey in his voice. "I was nasty as nasty could be. You want me to go into detail? Because I _can_ and _will_. I can be very... _very_ specific."

Before anyone could object, he lowered his arms a little, palms up and hands clenched into claws, his horrible expression becoming even more so.

"You want me to count out every time I've killed them? You wanna hear all about the different ways I've thought up to _slaughter_ them where they stood? How _delighted_ I was to see the ground soaked red?? How _satisfying_ it was to feel them _squish_ between my fingers??! How- H-How _DELICIOUS_ THEY TASTED-?!?"

"ASRIEL!"

Toriel's sharp tone silenced him. She was trembling in thinly veiled horror, and beside her, Asgore had a hand covering his mouth, looking like he was going to be sick. Undyne looked revolted and conflicted.

Asriel was all three rolled up into one. Throughout his tirade, he had not once stopped crying.

His sneer becoming a broken grimace, he sniffled noisily and dropped his shaking arms to his sides, looking forlornly down at his feet. Beyond him, Gaster finally took notice of the hand being offered to him, and glanced up to see Frisk warmly smiling at him.

"...A-After all I've done...despite _everything_..." Voice choked with tears, Asriel brought one arm back up to wipe his tears away. "Frisk still decided...to forgive Flowey...to forgive _me_..."

Extremely hesitantly, Gaster accepted the offer, placing his hand in theirs. Their fingers wrapped tenderly around the hole in his palm.

"I w-wouldn't be here, as _myself_ , if they hadn't." Asriel held his shaking hands against his chest, tightly clutched his stripped shirt. "They d-didn't have to show me such...such selfless mercy. To give me...a second chance..."

Both his parents now looked more pained than anything else. " _Asriel_..."

Having dried his face as best he could, he looked back up, lips quivering and eyes moist. "All I'm saying-...all I'm _asking_ , is for you to...to follow their example. I mean, look at him!" He threw his arm back, gesturing behind him. "Does he look even the least bit threatening to you??"

Dr. Gaster was on his knees, kneeling before Frisk as they played the role of crutch in his struggle to get back to his feet. By all appearances, the two looked to have their hands full with each other to be bothered by the exchange that just transpired.

"...N-Not...really?"

It seemed Alphys had regained consciousness a while ago. Undyne eased her back to her feet and, after teetering a moment before regaining balance, she adjusted her glasses and stared, studiously, at Gaster.

"I-If anything," she claimed, smiling nervously. "To me, he, uh...l-looks more like one of those old people who get lost in supermarkets. Aheh heh...heh..."

That finally got a rise out of the good doctor. He winced, then frowned at Alphys. He looked offended.

"I'm not _that_ old," he started to say, defensively, but trailed off, his expression deeply thoughtful as his eyes wandered across the floor. "Though that...might be subjective at this point..."

Alphys became quiet, looking more nervous than before. Frisk's smile became sympathetic. Gaster noticed, and returned it with a small, hesitant smile of his own.

"...I...they... _we're_ not asking you...t-to forgive him right away, o-or even at all..."

Asriel's voice had become hoarse and raw from crying so much. He looked around at the others, pleading in his tear-stained eyes. "Just...give him a chance? Please..?"

Several looked like they wanted to object. Not a single arguement was raised. A long, uncomfortable silence passed as everyone looked around at each other, silently deciding what should be done.

"......Fine."

In a flash, the spear Undyne had been holding vanished.

"If only for the kids' sakes-" Her face was still set in a scowl, but her tone was amicable. "-I think we can afford to give him the benefit of the doubt. Don't you think?"

Alphys timidly nodded. Toriel and Asgore still looked unsure, but relented.

Frisk's smile broadened. A wet smile of his own appeared on Asriel's face. "Undyne, thank you-!"

"That being said."

Ferocity returning to her demeanor, Undyne pointed a finger straight at Gaster's face, making him wince.

"My earlier warning still stands, doc: No funny business. You're already on thin fuuuuuhhhhhreaking ice; one wrong move and-" She brought the finger to her throat, drawing a line across it whilst making a noise that could've been interpreted as either breaking ice or tearing flesh. "- _game over_."

The threat certainly left little to be desired, but no one challenge it. If anything, the expressions of several others seemed to concur with and encourage it. Gaster's remained withdrawn as Undyne held his gaze, but eventually settled into one of grim understanding.

"...Duly noted, Captain." Frisk still acting as his crutch, Gaster got back to his feet, wobbling only a little before regaining balance and meeting Undyne's gaze once more. "I certainly would like to avoid... _sleeping with the fishes_."

...

......

.........

"God DAMMIT!!"

The following chorus of groans almost completely drowned out Frisk's laughter. Though, with them looking like they were trying not to, it was just a series of unflattering snorts and snickers. They had to hide their face against Gaster's leg to smother the noise.

The sight made Gaster smile, sheepishly. "I'm...glad you enjoyed it."

"That makes one of us," muttered Asriel, his hand against his forehead. "Now I know where Sans gets it from."

"It certainly would make sense," Toriel concurred, struggling to keep a straight face. "Like son, like-"

" _FATHER_?"

Everyone froze. Everything became quiet. Whatever attempt was made to make the mood lighter withered up and died in record time.

The two hadn't said a word since the doctor's entrance. One look at their faces would've confirmed they had been too in shock to even blink. Even now, they still looked lost in shock, unblinking, even as the doctor finally noticed them, stared blankly at them with wide, unblinking sockets.

"...Papyrus. Sans."

Papyrus flinched. "F...FATHER..?"

Frisk unhid their face, on it a small, hesitant smile. Right as they did, Gaster took a tiny, unsure step forward.

"Papyrus...Sans..."

His hands were finally released from Frisk's. They were shaking.

" _Papyrus_..."

Gaster's expression was one of indescribable yearning. He almost looked like he was going to cry.

"S... _Sans_ -!"

With his arms outstretched, he was only able to stumble forward a few steps before tripping on uncoordinated feet, and falling face down onto the floor.

"OH MY GOD ARE YOU ALRIGHT??! WELL I MEAN YOU'RE PROBABLY NOT, BUT MAYBE I'M OVER-EXAGGERATING??? HAVE YOU ALWAYS BEEN THIS CLUMSY? OR DID YOU FORGET HOW TO- YES! THAT MUST BE IT! YOU JUST SAID THAT YOU HAVE BEEN WITHOUT LEGS FOR AN INDETERMINATE AMOUNT OF TIME!! NO WONDER YOU ARE SO-! AHEM! YOU NEED HELP, DON'T YOU?? I WILL BE RIGHT THERE TO-!"

Papyrus might have been a bit of a rambler, but very rarely was he a nervous one. That was stopped, as was his unnaturally stiff advancement, by the arm that shot out in front of him, just above his knees.

Papyrus looked at his brother. He was staring, with dark, empty eyes, at the fallen skeleton lying before them, a look on his face not exactly 'angry', but inhospitable and unfriendly nonetheless. "S-SANS...SANS WE DON'T-"

"It's alright...Papyrus."

Papyrus flinched, and looked back to Gaster, who was slowly pushing himself onto his hands and knees. He kept his head down, but from what little he could see of his expression, it was not very happy.

"It was...foolish of me," he relented, softly, still keeping his head down, "to think...I'd be received so...easily. If...at all..."

A pained speechlessness overcame Papyrus. The look on Sans' face intensified.

Asriel opened his mouth to say something, took a step forward to intervene, but did neither when two hands on his shoulders stopped him. He glanced back at his parents, who were looking right at him and subtly shaking their heads until comprehension dawned. This...was different.

This was personal.

\----

A lot was going through Sans' mind. The contents of the tapes he'd viewed, the series of events leading up to their viewing, the revelations and horrors that cascaded after, the flashes of memories triggered by a long forgotten traumatic event, anything and everything he recalled about that man up until this point...

And there he was. Kneeling before him, defenseless and penitent. Not some enigmatic, space-distorting entity. Not an amorphous figure of tar and darkness. Not a cracked mask shrouded in mystery and static.

Just a skeleton, just like him.

Just.

Like.

Him.

"...is that it?" His tone was low and dangerous, his breathing heavy and huffy. (When had he started shaking?) "is that ALL you have to say??"

He asked this, _demanded_ this, because Gaster had gone silent. Even now, he still wasn't saying a word, nor was he raising his head or looking at anyone.

"...really? nothing?" He lowered the arm keeping Papyrus back, both hands clenching into fists at his sides. "there's really nothing you have to say for yourse-"

"Of COURSE there is!"

Sans inched back, defensively. Why, he wasn't entirely sure; Gaster didn't sound angry. He sounded choked up.

"Of... _course_ there is..." Gaster repeated softly, tentatively, his hands on his knees and his shoulders shaking. "There's so... _so_ much I've wanted to say, for so long...I have no idea where to even  _start_..."

Sans paused for a moment, then chuckled dryly. "heh heh heh, forgotten already, didja? you started a while ago; by apologizing for 'everything'."

Gaster bowed his head lower.

"and what, exactly, does 'everything' include, hmm?" An unpleasant grin on his face, Sans took a step forward. "does it cover what you put the kid through? what you did to spacetime? what you did to _us_??"

His hands tightly clenched the fabric of his pants.

"or, heh, maybe...you're just sorry you ever _made_ us."

That made Gaster cringe as though stabbed. "Sans-"

He was cut off as Sans finally got close enough to reach out, and grab the front of his turtleneck.

"say it to my face, you bastard." There was definitely anger in it now, but with something hard to place that sullied it a little. "if you _really_ have more to say, then say it to my god. damn. _face_."

Gaster opened and closed his mouth several times, but not a word came out. Grimacing, his whole frame visibly shaking, he tightly shut his eyes and turned his head down low.

"...heh. really don't know why i was expecting that much."

Sans released the sweater. Gaster slumped. Then he stuffed his hands into his pockets, turned, and walked away. "dunno why i even bother to care."

"...You used to."

Sans barely made any headway before he froze. "...come again?"

"You used to care," confessed Gaster, his voice weak and small. "Long...long ago."

Sans considered this, briefly, before scoffing. "heh, and was this before or after sayin' i wasn't a 'real' monster? i can't recall."

"...After." Gaster sounded pained. "It was...soon after."

"riiiight, riiiight. after i was still in shock after the accident, yeah? said i was going to 'get them back', didn't i? told my future self 'don't forget'? heh, failed step one right of the bat!"

"...You didn't fail anything."

Sans tensed, blinking in surprise. "wh...what do you mean?"

"You...didn't fail," Gaster repeated, his voice small and even. "Not completely. You found a way to reach me. You simply...don't remember our first post-accident encounter."

A twinge of annoyance in his scowl, Sans turned back around. "the hell you goin' on about you senile old ma-"

A wave of dizziness suddenly swept over him. It made his head feel fuzzy and nearly made him trip. Thankfully, Papyrus dashed forward and caught him before he could. "BROTHER, WHAT IS IT? ARE YOU ALRIGHT??"

Sans clutched at his head, grunting softly. "wha...what is this..?"

"Do not fight it, Sans," softly urged Gaster. "Not anymore. Just...let yourself remember. Now that you actually _can_."

Sans made to give the doc an unamused glare, comment on how the cryptic message wasn't helping in the slightest. But he found himself looking past where he knelt, back at the machine he emerged from, staring at it as though this was the first time he'd seen it. The longer he stared, the less fuzzy his head felt, the less he felt the need to hold it.

Something was familiar about the machine. This had always been the case, of course, but in its current state, there was... _something_ about it. Something different...

Had it always been this big?

_"he must've given it too much juice; if i reduce the scale...'s not like i'm tryin' to 'allocate' every monster in the underground to a different timeline, y'know? i'm only gunnin' for finding the others. for finding...him..."_

_"dammit, doc. you really need to work on your handwriting when i get you outta...wherever you are."_

_"huh. so there's another weak spot in space time right beneath our house. what're the odds?"_

_"a little more...just a little more... hang tight, dad. i'll find you..."_

Suddenly, everything hit him like an anvil to the head.

"our...basement."

Out of his peripheral vision, he caught Gaster's head barely bobbing up and down in a nod.

"i...i recreated the machine there."

"A more compact, less powerful version of it, but, yes," Gaster clarified.

"and i...i..."

Sans lowered his head, and at the same time Gaster lifted his, a little.

"i found you."

Gaster nodded, somberly.

"S-So _that's_ why y-you had those blueprints," Alphys commented, her voice sounding far away.

His headache coming back, Sans frowned and rubbed his temple. "then why...? why couldn't i remember..?"

"...Have you ever wondered why you and Papyrus remember other timelines better than other monsters?"

Sans looked back up. Behind him, Papyrus straightened. "HOW UNCANNY! SANS AND I WERE DISCUSSING THAT VERY TOPIC JUST LAST NIGHT! UNFORTUNATELY, NEITHER OF US COULD DEDUCE THE ANSWER TO THAT MYSTERY! WAIT..." His eyes narrowed in slight suspicion. "COULD IT BE...THAT _YOU_ KNOW WHY THAT IS?"

Gaster nodded. "It is because of your level of exposure to the Absolute."

Before he could be pressed further, Gaster elaborated, "When the experiment...backfired, spacetime was negatively affected. Tears of it were scattered about throughout the Underground; some more obvious and visible to...certain parties."

"You mean...the save points?" Asriel guessed.

Gaster nodded. "But while the save points could only be seen by those with enough determination, you all have seen...more obvious tears. I believe you referred to them as 'black streak things'?"

"Y...Yeah," muttered Undyne, sounding a little dazed. "I did, didn't I?"

"And you have seen these tears before-" Gaster glanced up, just barely looking at Sans' face. "-haven't you, Sans?"

Sans was stock still as the memories returned. The first accident. Everyone being swallowed by the darkness. Desperately activating the fail-safe. The vacuum sucking everything in. The following implosion. And then, just before he lost consciousness...

"y...you mean..." His voice was small, barely audible. "all this time..." His gaze fell to the floor, his hand unwarily reaching up to his face. "i had...one of those tears..."

His fingers covered his left eye socket, where a numb ache started throbbing. "... _inside me_?"

"...That is why you have been able to recall other timelines," Gaster stated, numbly. "How you gained your 'shortcut' abilities. Why your eye...does that. And, I hypothesize...why you are so physically weak. It is also why...you were the only one who remembered those who were lost during the accident."

Sans felt light-headed, his breaths coming out weak and shallow.

"AND...MY EXPOSURE TO THAT, TO _YOU_ , BROTHER," realized Papyrus. "THAT'S WHY...I REMEMBER..."

"That sounds...extremely unsafe," Toriel claimed, sounding horrified. "How did you survive with a tear in spacetime inside you for so long?"

"...Because I removed it."

Sans winced, his eyes going wide as another memory resurfaced. A memory of him standing in a small, monochrome room, weak and breathless and shaking so much he felt like he was going to fall apart, begging to...to someone...

_"d-doc, please, i've c-come all this way..!"_

_..._

_"wh...w-what are you doing??"_

_..._

_"n-no...no! d-don't do this! please!"_

**_T͜HI̢Ş͠ ̛͏͞I͏͠Ş͟ ̨F̷̴̢OR̸̷ ͏̸T̡H͜E̶͡ ̛B͜E͢͡S̨T.̨_ **

_"i-i can help you! i c-can get you out of here!!"_

**_Y̧͝͠O̧̕U ͟C̢͏A̵͟͝Ņ͞'͡͞T̕͝ ̕H̷̷E͜͏LP͝͝ ͟͡͏M̴͜E̢,̷͟͠ ̴͟SA̸͡ŅS̶̕.̷ N̴O̡ O̧̡N͘E̛ ̨͜C̸A̕N̢̢͟.̴_ **

_"no...please...i d-don't want to..."_

**_PL͟E͜A̵̡͢S͞E..̕͢.̶͟_ **

_"...dad..."_

**_J̴̡Ų̨S̢͝͝T͘͡ ͢F҉̴O̷͠RG͠E͢͏͢T̷͠ ͡A̡B͢O͞U̴͝T̢ ̕M͏E͞͏.̛_ **

"...when i found you." His voice was hollow, expression dazed. "you extracted the tear...when i used the machine and found you. and then, i woke up in waterfall, and i...i couldn't..."

Gaster didn't respond, but the way he seemed to shrink told Sans all he needed to know.

"... _why_?" A scowl returned to his features, anger returning to his voice. "why did you make me forget you???"

Gaster didn't reply.

"were you trying to run away?? didn't want to face the music? so you made the only person who remembered that you ever existed forget?!"

He didn't say anything.

"...heh. why am i so surprised, though? you wanted to run away to a different timeline, after all; that's just the kind of person you are, innit?"

He still wouldn't say a word.

"you're a liar! you're a coward! you made the world forget you, and for what!? so you could come back into it in hopes you wouldn't have to face the consequences-"

"Because I didn't want to destroy what was left of my family!!"

Again, the exclamation made Sans falter, but Gaster didn't sound angry. He sounded heartbroken and contrite.

Gaster was violently shaking, looking down at his hands. After drawing in a shaking breath, he brought them to his face, covered his shut eyes.

"I...I won't deny my cowardice," he relented, voice as shaky as his body. "Neither will I deny how...deceitful I've been. I just...didn't want to fail you again..."

Sans was quiet, surprised. Had he ever seen this man so...broken down and sorrowful?

"...And god knows how much I've failed you." Keeping it turned down, Gaster uncovered his face and placed his hands in his lap. He wasn't shaking as much, but there was still a tremble in his voice. "How dismissive I was when you worked with me, how absent I was in your later years, from the very moment of your...'conception'; I've done nothing but fail you."

Gaster let out a bitter chuckle. "You were right. I was too scared to admit it back then, but you were right. You were...an oversight. The product of an experiment I had not accounted for. Overlooked and neglected until I realized how you came to be. And Papyrus, you-...you were originally made to prove my theory correct. I never planned...to bring you two into existence...

"But that does not mean I regretted it for even a second."

Sans' sockets widened, some of the tension leaving his bones.

Gaster stared at the holes in his hands, chuckling bittersweetly. "It...surprised be, certainly. How, not just one, but two new souls so...so pure and innocent, could come from...someone like me. Someone who deceived his King. Who failed to protect his Queen. Who felt responsible for the death of his Prince. Who couldn't...save his beloved..."

" _Wing Dings_..."

Gaster didn't respond to Asgore's mournful tone. He just kept staring at his hands, his shoulders sinking as a tiny, reminiscent smile appeared on his face.

"Recall, if you will, the contents of tape number...eleven, I believe? I was on a tangent about...Papyrus' development, when I was interrupted. Do you know what I was going to say? The reason why I hesitated to refer to you to as mere 'subjects'?

"Because you never were. You were alive, you had souls, you were...part of me. The method of your births may have been...unconventional, but I didn't care. Because...the two of you..."

The second most broken smile Sans had ever seen in his life tugged at Gaster's quivering mouth.

"You were...my children. I...I loved you. You...meant...... _everything_ to me..."

Sad and meek, cautious and humble. But, most of all, he looked like the loneliest person in the world.

"I loved you...so much......it was the beginning of my downfall."

No longer shaking, Gaster kept looking down as he elaborated, "I wanted you to know real sunlight. To feel real rain. To see real stars. To have a life outside this suffocating darkness. To have the chance...to know _both_ your parents...

"I thought the solution lied in the past. In altering it. But in my zeal, my desperation, my obsession...I had lost sight of who I was willing to rend time and space for. I was not there to see you grow up...and that is something I'll never forgive myself for.

"And then...the accident. Blinded by my greed and pride, I ignored and dismissed the dangers...and the price I paid affected far more than just myself."

Sans' gaze wandered down, his hand subconsciously reaching back up to his left eye socket.

"You were...very persistent in your search to find me," Gaster revealed, softly. "Very 'determined', if you'll pardon the irony. You ran yourself ragged, pushed yourself past your already...meager limits. And with the tear still inside you...it is just as the Queen said: it's a wonder you survived for as long as you did."

Sans pulled his hand away, and stared down at it. He didn't technically have any, being a skeleton and all, but he felt like all the blood in his face was draining out of it.

"When you found me, I could see how dangerously far you had pushed yourself, the extent of the damage the tear had inflicted on you. You were on the razor's edge of the breaking point; any more would have surely killed you. And dying there, in that liminal space where we met...I feared you would suffer a fate far worse than even mine. And without you, Papyrus would have...been all alone..."

Sans glanced back at Papyrus, seeing his hands clasped together over his chest, and looking like he was going to cry.

"I tried to tell you, but you wouldn't listen. You were just too desperate and determined to get me back, to save me..." Gaster gulped heavily, his hands slightly clenching. "It was not an easy choice, but it was one I had to make, no matter how much you protested. To preserve what was left of my family, rather than doom you to an eternity chasing my echo-"

"you removed the tear," Sans finished, dazedly, "and made me forget you."

It was subtle, but Gaster was shaking again.

"It was...not a perfect decision," he relented. "I had removed the tear, yes, but the scars it left behind ran deeper than I ever could've imagined. Your low stamina, your physical weakness...and all the horrors you witness and _remembered_ throughout the timelines."

His shaking wasn't so subtle anymore. Grimacing, he tightly shut his eyes and brought a hand to his forehead. "You suffered, again, because of me...when all I wanted was, for _once_ , to do right by you..."

Sans' arms were limp at his sides, his expression blank.

"...But the outcome of my choice...remained the lesser of two evils; I cannot completely regret it." Gaster looked off to the side, smiling sadly. "What I told you was the truth: there was nothing you could have done to return me to this reality. You couldn't help me, Sans. No monster could have. What was necessary, as it turned out..."

He glanced over his shoulder, a touch of gratitude entering his grin. "...Was a little humanity."

Sans blinked, then followed Gaster's line of sight, back to where a certain child still stood.

Frisk was slumped back against the machine, no longer shivering, looking as though even a gentle breeze was going to knock them over. Their head was bowed, slightly, hair still hanging over their face and obscuring most of it. All he could really see of their expression was their smile, which was withdrawn and hesitant, but expectant and hopeful. Like they were covering all their bases, preparing themself for any outcome.

"...I've said it before," Gaster continued, voice solemn and even, "and I will say it again: I will not ask for forgiveness. God knows I do not deserve it. Nor do I expect you to want me to be part of your lives again; I would not be at all surprised if you say you never even want to see me again..."

Sans just kept staring at Frisk.

"I just...had to tell you the truth; that's all I wanted. All I _needed_." It sounded like every word was torture, but Gaster pressed on. "Now that I have, if it is what you want...I'll never darken your doorstep again. You will never have to hear from me again...

"All I ask...is for you to remember that I _never_ stopped loving both of you. And, for _everything_...I am so...so sorry..."

He felt like everyone was staring at him, and frankly, Sans was getting reeeeal tired of being in the spotlight all the time. The only one he could confirm wasn't looking anywhere at him was the skeleton kneeling before him, penitent and ashamed, waiting for him to pass judgement on him.

Just as Gaster was avoiding his gaze, Sans wasn't completely looking at him, either. His sights remained on Frisk, watching their mostly obscured face, looking for any change in demeanor, considering them thoughtfully. Thinking for a very...very long time...

...

......

.........

............

.......................

His hands clenched into fists, eyes going dark before closing as he grimaced.

"you're still a _bastard_."

There was not a single breath of reply.

"......but i know a thing or two about being a bastard. heh, guess it must run in the family."

Gaster winced, eyes snapping wide open.

"and...as far as dads go..." A carefree grin on his face, Sans opened on eye in a wink and rubbed the back of his head with one hand, the other going into his pocket. "i guess you could've been a whole lot worse? heh heh heh..."

All the tension drained out of Gaster's bones. Slowly, as though shackles were around his neck, he lifted his head up, finally looking at Sans' face in shock.

"...Did...did you just...call me...?"

"what else would i call ya? 'cause, i mean..." His grin wasn't all that carefree anymore, but reserved and a little nervous as he, finally, looked Gaster in the eye. "i'm...your son. ...right...?"

The two skeletons stared at each other, one hesitantly and awkwardly, the other unblinking and blankly. The former, as the seconds ticked by in complete silence, started shifting nervously where he stood. The latter was completely still, not moving an inch...until one hand slowly reached up, and gently cupped the former's cheek.

The touch stilled Sans, made his face go nearly as blank as Gaster's. He was barely touching him, but he could feel the growing tremor that started in his hand, spread down his arm, until his whole frame was vibrating.

He was only about 85% sure of it, but this had to have been the first time he'd ever seen Gaster cry.

"My son..." Tears rolling down his cheekbones was the last Sans saw before Gaster threw his arms around him, pulling him into a tight, desperate embrace as he started to sob. " _M-My SON_...!"

Sans went stiff, feeling awkward again, but it didn't last for as long. It barely lasted at all, actually, before something else rose within him. Something that made him feel all...floaty, for lack of a better word. He wasn't sure what it was, but whatever this was, this feeling of being in his arms...

Somehow...this felt _right_.

"A...A-AND ME, TOO??" he heard Papyrus ask, almost desperately. "I'M YOUR SON, TOO???"

"Yes, YES..!" One of Gaster's arms left him, to grab one of Papyrus' to pull him into the embrace, too. "You brilliant, brilliant boy! You are my son, too! Y-You are...my _sons_...! And I've missed you so...so much..."

Gaster started sobbing harder; tears were starting to seep through Sans' sleeve, all the way to his arm. It wasn't long before he felt Papyrus' arm circle around him, felt him squeeze him and Gaster closer.

"SANS," he said, voice tight with wonder and tears. "WE...HAVE A FATHER, SANS."

"...yeah." Voice straining, he properly returned his father's hug. "we sure do."

\----

"...Okay is anyone else's head reeling from emotional whiplash right now?"

The mood wasn't exactly 'killed', per se, but it did suffer a harsh blow from Undyne's bluntness.

"Oh, most certainly," Toriel agreed, dabbing the tears of joy off her fur. "So much has happened, and not even a full day has passed yet! Hee hee hee!"

"It's...a lot to wrap our heads around," agreed Asgore, pulling Asriel close as he rubbed his snout with the back of his arm. "Honestly, I feel like I'm in a dream. Like I'll wake up, and..."

He looked down at his son, smiling sadly. Toriel did the same, worry wrinkling her brow. Asriel looked back up at them, his expression unsure.

"W-Well, let's see if it is!" was all Alphys said before she turned, stood on her tiptoes, planted her hands on either side of Undyne's face, and pulled her into a deep kiss.

Undyne, momentarily surprised, grinned and passionately returned the kiss. Asriel quickly covered his eyes with his hands, a shy blush standing out beneath his fur. Half a minute later, the kiss ended with a * _pop_ *, leaving both participants gasping for air.

"An...And th-that proves it!" Smiling like a love-struck fool, still gasping, Alphys gave the others a look of triumph. " _Both_ of us n-needed to come up for air! So this isn't a dream at all!!"

Asgore and Toriel chortled heartily; even Asriel laughed, though he was still blushing and covering his eyes. Undyne was also grinning like an idiot, but only for a moment before becoming serious.

"So, now that it's been established we're not dreaming," she said, with a slight blush, before glaring at the time machine as if it had insulted Papyrus. "Does that mean I can finally 'dismantle' this hunk of junk??"

"B-By all means, _please_ ," Gaster stressed, ending the hug with his sons if only to wipe the tears from his face. "I'm sure I'm not the only one who wants nothing more to do with this death trap."

Sans' face lit up; he looked validated. As for Undyne's, a grin spread so widely across hers, it took up nearly half her face.

"NGGGAAAAAAHHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!" With the war cry/bellowing laugh, she tore the nearest pillar right out of the floor with a metallic screech, then chucked it like a football out toward the sea of dried magma.

"Whooooooaah!" Asriel watched the generator sail through the air, jaw dropped in awe. "Nice air time!!"

"Thanks! But that was just a warm up!" She rolled her shoulders, her grin widening. "Just watch; the next one's gonna make it all the way to the elevator!"

"Do, uh, do try not to destroy _too_ much, Undyne," Asgore politely requested. "We still need to get out of here, you know."

"NO PROMISES!" Undyne yelled over the sound of the punted generator crashing into the glass a good half a mile away, cackling gleefully.

"WE SHOULD MOVE," Papyrus stated soon after she ripped out another pillar. "UNDYNE ON A RAMPAGE CAN GET....MESSY."

"Hell yeah it can!!" proudly announced Undyne before drop-kicking this one. "And it definitely will!! Fuhuhuhuhuhuhu!!"

Papyrus grinned at her antics, and got back to his feet. "CAN YOU STAND, FATHER?"

The term made Gaster's smile widen. "Y...Yes, I think I-" He didn't even get to one foot before stumbling. "...It seems I can't just yet."

"YES, THAT'S RIGHT! YOU MUST HAVE FORGOTTEN HOW TO WALK! NEVER FEAR! THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL RETEACH YOU! NYEH HEH HEH HEH!"

Papyrus eased Gaster back to his feet, still holding his hands even after he regained his balance. "...DO YOU KNOW WHAT HAS JUST OCCURRED TO ME? YOU MUST HAVE DONE THE SAME FOR SANS AND ME WHEN WE WERE JUST BABYBONES!"

"Yes, I...I did," Gaster reminisced. "You learned fairly quickly, Papyrus. While Sans..."

"AMAZING," Papyrus said, flatly. "LAZY SINCE A BABYBONES. THAT MUST BE A RECORD OF SOME KIND!"

"what can i say," Sans dismissed with a wink. "had to start sometime."

Papyrus rolled his sockets and groaned. Gaster laughed earnestly, a gentle, kind smile on his face. Papyrus led him, steadily and carefully, to where Toriel and Asgore had resumed embracing their son, covering his head with kisses; Asriel looked too elated to protest. Alphys stood near them, watching Undyne's wanton destruction with a dreamy smile on her face.

Relatively speaking, none of them had ever looked happier.

Sans lingered back, all the joy he was witnessing leaving him feeling starstruck. He just stood there, an equally starstruck smile on his face, before turning toward his left.

"i..." he muttered as his gaze fell on another who had not yet joined the others. "i don't have the words."

Frisk serenely smiled, though it was hard to tell if it was a general smile, or one specifically directed at him.

Either way, he returned it in kind. "you did good, kiddo. you...you did real good."

Frisk kept smiling.

Another metallic screech gave Sans a jolt of surprise; it was closer than the others. "welp. undyne's certainly enjoying herself," he commented, nodding her way. "we should probably get out of her way before she mistakes one of us for turbines, or somethin'."

Frisk just kept smiling.

"and, hey-" He stuck his hands in his pockets and turned away, headed toward where everyone else had gathered. "-now that this whole thing's over and done with, maybe you'll want to invest in takin' a proper nap now? no offence, but you look ready to fall over at any-"

He barely heard it, right before another piece of the ripped-out machine crashed against distant glass. He wasn't sure he heard it at all, honestly. Stopping mid-stride, he turned back around, only to find out the soft 'thud' he heard hadn't been just his imagination.

"...huh. okay then." He blinked, dumbly, then chuckled. "heh, must be more tuckered out than i thought. though that wasn't exactly an invitation for you to actually- ah, nevermind. all things considering, you've earned yourself a freebie or two, heh heh heh."

Shrugging once, he walked up to the machine, then stooped down in front of it. "but, y'know, suddenly falling asleep in weird places is my bit. get your own gig, 'kay? we can iron out the details later, though. for now, let's get you into a proper...bed..."

He stopped, barely having lifted them even half an inch off the ground, his smile faltering.

"...hey, uh, frisk? i...i know you're super tired right now; so tired you probably just wanna go home, crawl into bed, and sleep for the rest of forever. but could...you......"

The sentence trailed off, the thought petering out like an ember. His smile gone, he leaned the side of his head against the left side of their back...and finally understood why he was suddenly so full of dread.

They were not moving.

They were not breathing.

He could not hear their heart beating.

"no...oh god _no_. _frisk_??" He grabbed the back of their shirt and shook them. "frisk, wake up! _wake up_!!"

They didn't stir.

"this isn't funny, kid!" He kept his voice low; no need to get everyone worked up over a joke. Because that's what this was: a joke. A sick, sick joke. "this is, like, the complete opposite of funny! not everyone enjoys this kind of gallows humor, you know!"

Nothing happened.

His hands were starting to shake. "i r- _really_ need to teach you how to read a crowd better; we can start right now! but you gotta be awake for that! so stop...s-stop goofing around already and-!!"

In his desperation, he had rolled them over onto their back. Some of the hair hanging over their face shifted out of the way, uncovered what had been obscured.

Silenced him, destroyed the last bit of desperate hope he had left.

He recalled it being difficult, back when he first met them, to tell whether or not their eyes were open or closed. Being around them for the past two years made it easier to know the difference. Their eyes were a gentle, rich burgundy-brown; in the right light they could've been mistaken for red. They always lit up whenever they spoke about their interests, whenever they looked at a flower bed, whenever they saw him.

But now...now......

Death was a concept he had come to grasp at an early age. He may not have fully remembered it until recently, but that first encounter had left quite the impression on his young mind. He hadn't recognized it at first, and who could blame him? Monsters turned to dust when they died, and that was that; you knew for certain there was no coming back. But with humans...they just became still, like they were only asleep. Or 'fallen down'. And could wake up at any time. There was still hope that their eyes would open up again, light up like stars when seeing a loved one.

His initial experience with it made sure he knew the difference. Every one he'd seen after cemented that truth.

But at that moment...it just couldn't be true.

There had to be another reason why their unblinking eyes were so dark, so glassy, so empty.

They were still faintly smiling, after all.

They couldn't...c-couldn't be......

A drop of water fell onto their sunken cheek, then another, and another, and another. Several more dripped down Sans' chin as he slumped, a hollow numbness spreading through him, consuming him, making him feel as though his very soul was crumbling to pieces inside his chest.

" _no_..."

\----

Asriel pulled away from his parents; despite how happy he truly felt to see and feel love for them again, he was starting to get smothered by all the love they were returning. He looked around at the others, smile stretching ear to ear to see all the love surrounding them. He was smiling so much he was starting to wonder if it'd become a permanent fixture to his features.

But there was still that feeling. That nagging worry clinging to him like a burr that, despite all this initial love...if it would still be there after saying all that was left to say. Maybe...maybe he should start with Sans? Catch him while he was still in a good mood? Knowing that comedian, he might just say 'no hard feelings' and pull a whoopee-cushion-in-the-hand trick on him. Better that than nothing, Asriel supposed.

...Where was Sans, anyway?

Oh, wait, there he was! Over by the machine! What's he doing over there, anyway? And why was he on his knees? And...why did he look like someone just-

**CRA-A-A-AAASH!**

"...Frisk?"

Asriel's pace first started as a zombie-like stagger. Barely a second latter, he was sprinting.

" _Frisk_?!!"

Undyne was just about to rip up another piece of machinery to chuck and crash over half a mile away when Asriel's horrified tone rang out. It made her stop, made her and everyone else look his way. And they did so just in time to see him skid to a halt, his hands flying up to his mouth to smother an equally horrified gasp.

Their sights were then drawn elsewhere. It was near instantaneous how quickly they came to realize the source of the prince's dread.

"No...no, no, NO, _NO_!!!"

Asriel dropped to his knees, thick tears rolling down his fur as he fiercely shook his head. "No, you can't-! You just CAN'T-!"

He grabbed the front of Frisk's shirt, doubling over as he wailed. "You said we'd face everything together!! You said you'd stay by my side no matter what! You promised..! _YOU PROMISED_!!!"

" _No_..." Toriel's tears started small, but she was almost immediately wracked with heart-wrenching howls as she fell to her knees and doubled over, hands gripping her chest as she screamed. " _NOOOOOO_!!!"

Asgore's was a silent kind of anguish. He dropped heavily to his knees, his expression one of broken numbness as tears slid down his face, all the way down to the tips of his golden beard.

"...WH...WHY IS...EVERYONE CRYING..?" weakly questioned Papyrus, spectacularly failing to keep a smile on his becoming-wet-with-tears face as he, slowly, looked around. "WH-WHY AM... _I_ CRYING?? THEY'RE JUST...J-JUST SLEEPING WITH THEIR EYES OPEN! L-LIKE WHAT UNDYNE DOES! THAT'S WHY SHE WEARS THE EYEPATCH! I-ISN'T THAT RIGHT, UNDYNE??! FRISK IS ONLY SLEEPING WITH THEIR EYES OPEN, RIGHT!?? SO...S-SO WHY...WHY..."

But he couldn't even fool himself. He slumped to his hands and knees, watching the puddle on the floor beneath him steadily grow bigger. " _WHY_...?"

Alphys was choking on her sobs, clinging desperately to her wife and burying her face against her side, but not even that offered the slightest touch of comfort.

"No. No, no, _no_ you do NOT get to CLOCK OUT like this!!"

Undyne looked and sounded enraged, though the moisture in her eye and the waver in her voice dampened it. "You're supposed to live 'til you're old and grey and wrinkly as a prune! 'Til after you've experienced EVERYTHING! You were supposed to live until you've lived longer than GERSON for fuck's sake!! 'Cause that'll show 'em... That'd be the biggest 'FUCK YOU' to all those horrible bastards that put you through all that terrible shit! That convinced you you'd be better off-! N-Not... _not like this DAMMIT!!!_ "

She summoned a spear, only to plunge it into the ground so she'd have support as she slumped to her knees, head hanging low and closed eye squeezing out tears. "D...D- _Dammit_..."

Sans felt lost in the sea of misery, drowned in the dirge of sobs. His head was full of nothingness, his chest full of emptiness. That's why it felt as though his body was acting on his own when his arm reached out, hand cupping the back of Frisk's head, and slowly lifting it up to his. His other moved to their face, gingerly brushing those pesky locks off of it so he could see it better. See how...how peaceful they looked...

"...hey...frisk..?" His voice felt like it was coming from somewhere far away, in the form of a breathy whisper. "buddy? you can...y-you can go ahead and reset now; i won't be mad. i swear, i won't be mad!"

He felt nothing. Not the broken smile spreading across his face, not the tears streaming down it...not the softness of their skin as he gently cupped their cheek.

"d-didn't i tell you? i was...i-i was looking forward to another go 'round with you! th-that i...i wouldn't mind d-doin' it all over again..! s-so go ahead! it's okay; really! a-and this time, you'll know better! _i'll_ know better! i'll be with you, all the way... y-you won't have to...face it all alone again...'cus...'cus i..."

He didn't feel the cracks in his voice, the sobs making his chest heave, not even their forehead against his as his eyes shut, forcing out more tears he didn't feel, either.

"i...i love you, frisk... _please_... _please come back_..."

He felt nothing at all.

\----

"Y-You knew this w-would happen, didn't you!?!" Asriel was hysterical. Frisk's shirt was soaked with his tears, yet more kept coming. Asriel tightly clutched their cold, limp hand with both his shaking ones, lifted it up to the side of his face.

"Y-You said...you only said you planned to 'make it back' alive! Not that you'd-!" He held them more tightly, more desperately. "I-I wasn't worth this, Frisk!! None of it was!! Everything th-that we've done... _it'll all have been for nothing if you're not-AAUGH_!!!"

He released their hand as though it had stung him and scrambled backwards, landing on his rear and staring in dread at his own hands. In his palms, he saw something soul-crushingly familiar, felt a sensation he prayed he'd never have to experience again; not _this_ immediately, at least.

He knew it. He knew this was too good to be true. That he could be restored to his true self, and that it would last. He was right; everything they'd done, everything that was sacrificed, Frisk's-...it was all for nothi-

The sensation ceased as quickly as it began. The substance in his palms trickled out of his fur. His hands were undamaged, whole, complete.

Confusion mixed with his tearful grief. He looked past his fingers...then horror joined the mix as he cried out, and scrambled back even further.

Frisk's hand was...it...w-was......

It started from the tips of their fingers, slower than drying paint. But it was happening to more than just their hand. Their neck, their feet, their legs; it seemed to be progressing faster around the scar tissue tattooed up and down their their arms.

It wasn't all that obvious, actually, except to those within a certain proximity. It was made even more obvious when their head - having gained sudden traction - slipped out of Sans' hands and fell to the floor. Powder exploded from the impact site like a blood splatter.

What made it most obvious was the clump of hair in Sans' open palm, which turned as white as him before crumbling apart into fine, tiny... _familiar_ particles.

Everyone was staring, gaping in horrified confusion. Possibly none more so than Sans, who could only watch as white-grey powder shifted through his joints like sand trickling into the bottom of an hourglass.

". . . w h a t    t h e    _h e l l_ . . . ?"

The swish of fabric. Hurried footsteps. In a flash, Dr. Gaster was stooped down on one knee, had Frisk cradled in one arm, and was holding one of their disintegrating hands in front of his face.

Sans flinched, blinking as though awakening from a trance. He looked up at his father's face, and flinched at the look he saw on it. That discerning frown, those narrowed eyes...Sans came to realize that he'd seen this look before. That he knew what the doctor was like when his expression was this intensely focused.

Between their faces, Frisk's hand was still falling apart. So was their wrist, delicately pinched between Gaster's fingers; even the lightest of pressures seemed to be accelerating the deterioration of their body. Already, Sans could see bone.

Bone that...wasn't crumbling...but, rather...

 _Bubbling_?

Gaster's eyes narrowed further. He gently laid Frisk's arm down, then carefully pushed their eyelids closed.

"There is still time."

As quickly as he stepped in, Gaster was back on his feet and briskly walking away.

"Dr. Alphys, please redirect all available power to the elevators and to Sector 10-B of Hotland's main power grid. Sans, I need you to return to the surface and procure an EKG machine, a heart monitor, and an oxygen tank, complete with all the necessary accessories. Steal them if you must; you can worry about compensation and repercussions later. Once you have everything, regroup in the lab complex beneath Dr. Alphys' former place of residence. And do be quick about it; at the rate they're regressing, I can only guarantee less than an hour before-"

Gaster stopped as though he had run into an invisible wall, as though his feet had been encased in concrete. He became very still, and very quiet.

"...Release me, Captain."

Undyne was back on her feet, pointing the tip of her unsheathed spear at the back of Gaster's chest. Tear stains sparkled against her scales, stood out against the burning fury warping her expression.

" _Let. Them. GO._ "

Gaster didn't even flinch; possibly because of how strongly Undyne's green magic kept him locked in place.

"...You really don't want me to do that."

"Oh, I think I do," she snarled, her fury unwavering. "I think we ALL do."

Most still seemed too blindsided to speak for themselves, but the general consensus among each of their expressions suggested they agreed with Undyne. That they saw Gaster's recent course of action contemptible.

"We don't have time to discuss this-"

"You... _you_ did this to them! _You're_ the reason they're like this!!"

Gaster didn't respond.

"And you're _still_ not done with them yet?! How much of a sick bastard can you be?!!" Undyne's glare strengthened, her spear glowing brighter. "Get. The _fuck_. Away from them!! Or I'll personally shove you right back where you came fro-"

" **Am I to remain convinced you CARE about this child?!** "

Undyne faltered, and not just because of the accusation. Gaster had whipped his head around, a scowl on his face and eye sockets so empty it was like the void had relocated itself to reside inside them. There had been a dark, hollow undertone in his words; not unlike Sans' Voice, but somewhat different from it on some unseen, barely felt level.

Gaster looked angry. In his anger, he looked positively terrifying.

Yet there was a touch of desperate begging within it.

"I know what's happening to them!" he announced, sounding more desperate by the word. "And I know how to stop it! I can help them! I can SAVE them!! But every _second_ you keep me here is one they're NOT getting back!!"

Everyone, Undyne especially, visibly wavered. The hand holding her spear started to tremble. She looked so conflicted she looked like she was going to throw up.

"Please..."

The plea was drenched in heartbreak. It came from Asriel, who Undyne glanced back at to see on his knees, and shaking like a maraca during Cinco de Mayo.

"Please..." he kept begging through his tears. "P... _Please_..."

One by one, his pleads - coupled with their own personal worries - won the others over. The glow of Undyne's spear was growing fainter.

"... _You_..."

With a low growl of self-disapproval, her spear vanished, her spell on Gaster undone.

"Y-You'd better _save_ them."

The light returned to Gaster's eyes. His scowl smoothed over.

"Worry not, Captain. My Prince. Everyone."

He walked forward, purposefully, Frisk lying limp and still in his arms.

"I did not go through all this trouble just to have them die now."


End file.
